


Deluge

by celestialenigma



Series: Deluge [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Attempt at Historical Accuracy, Drama, Friendship, Human and Nation Names Used, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:12:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2726873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialenigma/pseuds/celestialenigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes love hurts and the look of adoration is plain to see on Canada's face. America obliviously hugs his best friend, a one thousand watt smile on his face. They've always been together, and always will. But will Canada become crushed under the weight of his longing? Will Alfred ever open his eyes and see a lover in his Mattie? -- Human and Nation names used</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Celestialenigma here.
> 
> First off: I am flying without a beta. If I don't get this out now, I will never get the courage and will nitpick the story to death. So I apologize for any errors, though I tried to catch them all.
> 
> Second: I really did a lot of research to make this as historically accurate as possible. In some parts though, I was deliberately loose with timelines. I hope this doesn't bother anybody.
> 
> Third: This is my first time publishing a fan fiction. Please be kind, but constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> Four: I hope you all love AmeCan as much as I do and enjoy this. <3

**Chapter One**

 

_**Mid 1700's** _

 

Canada, whose human name was Matthew Williams, stood behind his new caretaker. He was now a colony of Britain, otherwise known as Arthur Kirkland. His little hands trembled and he held his polar bear, Kumatirou tighter to his body.

 

When he had first been discovered, he'd been a colony of France. The first language that he'd been given was french and it'd been easy for Matthew to pick up. English was rarely spoken around Francis' home so Matthew hadn't learned it. There was a universal language spoken by all nations, but Matthew also found it hard to understand.

 

So Arthur and Matthew had a hard time understanding one another on the boat ride, and the little boy was very scared and nervous.

 

He didn't know where they were going, but they'd just gotten off of a boat and were walking down a pier. Waves lapped at the sides of the boats around them and people were shouting words Matthew didn't understand.

 

Matthew tried to move closer to Arthur, to get a hug and some comfort. Francis may have had to give him up after losing a war, but he'd always been full of love and showered Matthew with affection. Arthur, so far, while always making sure he had enough to eat, and had clothes and blankets, had such a cold exterior.

 

Arthur stopped suddenly and Matthew bumped into the back of him. Then Britain said some words in a loud voice.

 

Matthew began to shiver until he realized that Arthur wasn't speaking to him but another boy around Matthew's age.

 

A boy, whose face looked almost identical to his own stepped out of a carriage. He had similar blond hair, but straight instead of wavy. His eyes were big and wide and blue as the sky and his step had a bounce to it. A big smile was on the boy's face.

 

More words were spoken, between the new boy and Arthur. Matthew only understood some basic words, such as 'hello' and 'Canada'.

 

The boy then started striding right past Britain, as if he were in charge and not the other way around and went right up to Matthew. Patting his own chest, the boy said, “America, Alfred Jones.”

 

Matthew did the same and said, “Canada, Matthew Williams.”

 

Alfred grabbed one of Matthew's hands from around Kumatirou and dragged him him to the carriage and patted it, “Carriage.”

 

America turned, and beamed a smile so full of sunshine and happiness that Matthew couldn't help but attempt to mimic the word, “Carriage.”

 

The attempt was heavily accented, but apparently acceptable to Alfred and the boy nodded.

 

On their ride, and even at Arthur's home, Alfred kept teaching Matthew and pointing things out, along with their names. The boy showed off his toys. They played, ate and had fun.

 

That night, staring at the ceiling high above him as he tried to fall asleep, Matthew also had a smile on his face.

 

He had a friend, and he was happy.

 

#

 

“ _He's so loud,”_ thought Matthew as he watched and listened to his new brother.

 

Though he supposed they were only brothers because England had said so. They were more like friends. His very first real friend. They'd taken to referring to each other as brother-friends.

 

Alfred had a stick in his hand and was marching around the backyard of England's home. The makeshift weapon was held high in the air and the small boy was yelling orders at the top of his lungs. It was six months since they'd first met, and Matthew's grasp of English was much better, if not still with a french accent.

 

Matthew stood barefoot in the grass beside his polar-bear friend. They were supposed to be listening so that they could go fight 'the enemy', which as far as Matthew could tell, was a grove of trees just beyond the back fence of the property.

 

He yawned, tired because Alfred had dragged him out of bed very early to play.

 

“Got it?” said the blue eyed boy with a huge grin, suddenly just an inch from Matthew's face.

 

Shrieking, Matthew stumbled backwards and fell on his bottom.

 

“You scared me,” whispered Matthew.

 

“You weren't paying attention,” said Alfred, pouting and crossing his arms.

 

“S-sure I was. We're going to go out there and hit the trees.”

 

After Kumajipi licked his cheek, Matthew got up and grabbed his own, smaller stick, that his brother-friend had provided him with.

 

“Slay the trees. We're going to slay the trees.”

 

“O-okay. Can't I go inside to get some shoes?”

 

Spreading apart his little legs and pointing out the stick in his hand, Alfred shouted, “No time. Onward march!”

 

Sighing, Matthew followed. The sun had barely started to rise and the still dimness of the dawn caused eerie shadows to be cast near the forest. Matthew was worried, because he'd heard England talking about weird mystical creatures living back there. Creepy things.

 

Matthew shivered. He really just wanted to go back inside and play with toys.

 

Alfred got to the wooden fence first, practically leaping over it in one bound. Matthew's eyes widened and he gasped, “How did you do that?”

 

“It's easy. You just jump.”

 

Running and then doing as he'd been told, Matthew jumped, only to barely make it halfway. His little hands grasped onto the top of the fence and his legs flailed under him.

 

Alfred jumped up to stand on the top, grabbing Matthew's hand and pulling him up. Only then, the two young boys fell backwards and onto the forest floor.

 

Matthew squeaked and clenched his eyes shut tight. Was he dead now? Surely that high of a fall would kill him?

 

Then he heard Alfred giggling and batting at Matthew's shoulders lightly.

 

“Your curly hair is tickling my face.”

 

Matthew opened his violet eyes wide, “You're okay?”

 

“Sure. Now let's go.”

 

Together, the two of them began to slay a large number of enemies. Really all one had to do was poke the trunk of tree in order to defeat it.

 

With no idea how far they'd gone and long they had been outside for, Matthew's tummy began to feel very empty. Had Alfred eaten before they came out or something?

 

Behind him, he heard a low and dangerous growl. Slowly the little boy turned, only to see an animal that he didn't think lived here. There was a black wolf, snarling and with glowing red eyes.

 

Kumijirou bared his little fangs in return and leapt at the fur bristled animal, only to be swatted away to slam against a tree.

 

“Kumitaro!” cried Matthew, tears springing to his eyes.

 

The wolf edged forth, about to pounce. Matthew fell down, again, and crawled away. He moved desperately, twigs and stones scratching his bare knees, hands and feet now that he couldn't move slowly and carefully to prevent such injuries.

 

It was yanked back in the blink of an eye.

 

There was little Alfred, holding the creature by it's tail and swinging it in circles above his head before he flung it away, the animal probably landing miles away.

 

Matthew's mouth fell open, tears dripping down his now dirt covered cheeks. Kumanova sat up, dazed but fine.

 

“Your hands are bleeding.”

 

Too stunned and still a bit scared, Matthew didn't check himself. He just stared at his brother-friend.

 

It was only when Alfred lifted the white edge of the gown he wore that Matthew saw his own hands. His brother gently dabbed at his wounds. Alfred wiped a tear from Matthew's face.

 

“It's okay now. You're safe. I'll always protect you. Promise,” said America.

 

Canada had no idea why, but his heart beat faster.

 

#

 

Alfred munched on a yummy type of sausage. He sat on the bench in the carriage beside Arthur, little legs swinging rapidly and unable to touch the floor of the horse drawn vehicle.

 

They'd just been in a meeting with a country called Prussia. It was boring. America was scolded by England several times for getting up and running around. Eventually the pale-haired man who embodied the nation of Prussia gave America a whole bunch of food with the instructions to: “Sit fucking still, ja?”.

 

“Why isn't Mattie here with us?”

 

Alfred looked up at Arthur to see the man's thick and bushy brows knitting as he looked out the window of the moving carriage.

 

Those green eyes wandered to Alfred and softened, “I simply did not think he would enjoy being there is all. Besides, I was hoping that you'd learn a little thing or two about politics. Though he would have undoubtedly been more well behaved than you.”

 

“But Mattie's a country. He should learn too,” said Alfred, cocking his head to the side.

 

Mattie was also missed out on all this great food. Alfred stuffed the very last bite of sausage into his mouth and frowned.

 

He bet that Mattie was really hungry. All that was in the house was the weird food Arthur tended to like. Well, Alfred thought Arthur's food was sweet and tasty, but Mattie didn't like it much.

 

Getting up to rest on his knees. Arthur watched the stores pass by and saw one in particular that caught his eye.

 

“STOP!” he yelled and opened the door before the carriage could come to a full stop.

 

“What the blazes are you doing?” cried Arthur as the small child leapt out and ran over the cobbled streets, his boots making loud clicks on the ground

 

Alfred dodged several horses and wagons, hopping and smiling. He had the best idea ever.

 

Once he got to the shop that he'd seen, he stood on tip-toes to reached the door handle and nearly ripped it off in his excitement and unbridled strength. The only reason everything was still intact was due to Arthur plucking Alfred up from the ground.

 

“Didn't you get enough to eat already child?”

 

Bouncing in Arthur's arms, he nearly fell back down to the ground. He pointed and flailed, too happy to form coherent words other than a loudly cried, “Mattie!”

 

“Oh...Well, I suppose we can buy him something here.”

 

The two nations went into the shop.

 

Two hours later Alfred ran down the hallway, a small brown package resting under one arm. Not caring about politeness, the boy opened the door to Mattie's room without knocking.

 

Canada sat on the carpet, playing with some coloured blocks that rested between his splayed legs. Those violet eyes widened considerably when Alfred flung himself onto Mattie.

 

“Ah!” cried Mattie, hands flying up to protect his head out of instinct.

 

Alfred poked one of the arms covering the face of his brother-friend as he leaned in, “I've got a present for you.”

 

Mattie peeked out from behind an arm, “You scared me.”

 

“You weren't paying attention again.”

 

“I was, you just move fast.”

 

“Probably. Here.”

 

Mattie sat up when he was no longer pinned to the ground and took the package. Alfred was nearly vibrating on the spot while Mattie carefully unwrapped the paper so that it wouldn't rip and folded it up once removed.

 

The boy opened the box and revealed two neat rows of chocolate candy. Each candy was shaped like a ball and was all shiny and smooth.

 

“What are these for?” said Matthew, fending off Kumajirou who tried to nose at the chocolates.

 

Alfred shrugged but said, “You didn't get to come with me and you're my friend?”

 

So far Matthew had lived there for nearly a year, but Alfred had never seen the other boy really smile, not since his 'big brother' France had to give him to England. But right then a huge grin spread over Matthew's face.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Well Arthur bought them but it was my idea.”

 

“Want one?” asked Matthew.

 

Alfred grabbed one and jammed it into his mouth, beaming wide, teeth covered in chocolate.

 

Matthew giggled and did the same.

 

An hour later, when Arthur decided that the boys had been too quiet for too long, he was dismayed at what he saw. Both children were covered nearly head to toe in chocolate.

 

“Geez, you two!”

 

#

 

Lightning flashed outside, thunder boomed and rattled the windows of the large house. Rain pelted the roof and Matthew, being on the top floor, could hear it. The fire in the hearth had burned down to embers but Canada was snuggly warm under his blankets. He was especially cozy with his bear, what's his name, beside him.

 

This sort of weather had never bothered him, he actually kind of liked it. He especially liked the idea of splashing in the resulting puddles the next day, even though Arthur might not like that idea very much.

 

The door to his bedroom squeaked open while Matthew was thinking about mud and puddles. He wiggled his head out from inside of his blanket cocoon to see Alfred.

 

America stood there, fists at his chubby cheeks and tears streaming down his face.

 

“What's wrong?” said Matthew, quietly.

 

“The storm is scary and I think I saw a ghost.”

 

Looking around the room, and deeming it to be ghost free, Matthew lifted up a corner of his blanket.

 

“You can sleep here with me and Kumafermi.”

 

America nearly flew into the bed, causing Matthew to bounce a bit from the vibrations that the impact made. The polar bear grunted and then shifted to fall back asleep in a new position.

 

Soon the two boys were both wrapped snugly in the mass of quilts and covers.

 

“What's your bear's name anyway? You always call him something different,” said Alfred, sniffling.

 

Matthew blinked, “I do?”

 

Alfred nodded, “Uh-huh.”

 

Poking the polar bear's black nose until the creature opened it's eyes, Matthew said, “Your name is Kumafermi, right?”

 

“No. It's Kumajirou. Who are you?”

 

Matthew said, “I'm Canada.”

 

“Sleep,” said the bear, closing it's eyes again.

 

Matthew met Alfred's sky blue eyes, “There you go. His name is Kumasiki.”

 

Alfred broke out into peals of laughter, “You forgot his name again! You're funny.”

 

Crash!

 

Thunder cracked from a lightning strike that must have been close by. Alfred whimpered and hid under the blankets, edging closer to Matthew.

 

Wrapping an arm around his brother-friend, little Canada said, “It's okay. I can protect you too. Promise.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 

**Sometime around 1770**

 

Finally, the two of them were old enough to live by themselves. England had built them each a house in their very own countries. Life was going to be so good. Before Canada had met Francis and then Arthur, he'd lived on his own with Kumateno. He did occasionally live with the various tribes of humans in his country but that wasn't the same as living with and learning from another nation like himself.

 

Now Matthew was certain that he could effectively help his country.

 

Canada packed the last of his things in his trunk and closed it with a smile. He and America were going to sail on the same ship before they parted ways. They were going to leave the next morning.

 

Just before he could sit down on his bed, Canada heard a loud pounding at his bedroom door.

 

“Hey Canada, let's go outside. It's nice and sunny out for once.”

 

Alfred knocked several more times, fist stopped in place when Matthew opened the door.

 

Never one to care about propriety, Alfred wore a simple white shirt, without a waistcoat or cravat, and brown breeches. He already had on his boots. Matthew, at the moment, was dressed in a similar fashion, only with a cravat around his neck. Both of them had the height of teenagers, and still relatively slender.

 

“Don't you still have packing to do?”

 

“I'm done,” said Alfred, grinning ear to ear.

 

Shaking his head, Matthew said, “I don't believe you for a moment.”

 

Immediately deflating against the frame of the door, Alfred whined, “Okay, I'm not...but this is our last day to get out just the two of us. Come on, please. We won't be alone at all on the ship.”

 

After a moment's hesitation, Matthew nodded.

 

“Alright. Very well. Just let me get my coat-”

 

“No need. It's super warm out for what's probably the first time ever here in England,” laughed Alfred at his own joke, holding up some towels and a basket of food, “We're going swimming.”

 

_Two hours later_

 

Walking had taken a while, but Matthew finally heard the waves of the ocean crashing against the rocks of a nearby cliff. Alfred and Matthew had walked around to a small and private beach, setting a blanket down on the sand away from the water.

 

Canada had to admit, the weather was nice and the sun was shining down hot on his skin. He set down Kumamitou, who was pouting at being forced out in such warm weather, and sat down.

 

America, meanwhile, was already stripping his clothes off. Matthew knew that the two of them would be swimming in only their undergarments, that much was obvious. However it had been such a long time since the weather had been so nice and they'd both wanted to swim at the same time.

 

Now he found his eyes being drawn to the lean muscles that had developed along the other young man's body. The light sheen of perspiration from their walk shining under the rays of the sun. The short golden hair lightly mussed.

 

Matthew tugged at his cravat to give himself more room to breath.

 

When had Alfred become so handsome? So stunning?

 

“You okay?”

 

Alfred had his head cocked to the side and was staring back down at Matthew, for what must have been a very different reason.

 

Laughing nervously, Matthew nodded, “I'm just warm.”

 

“Well the ocean will cool you down,” said Alfred, making a loud whooping sound before running towards the water.

 

Taking several deep breaths, Matthew also removed his clothing down to his undergarments. He, however, walked much more slowly into the chilly waters. Kumamitou followed as well, loving to swim and caring much less about what Matthew perceived as a low temperature.

 

“Too warm.”

 

“Are you kidding me Kumaperti? This is freezing.”

 

“If I wasn't here with you, I'd be swimming in the arctic.”

 

Matthew just lightly splashed the bear with his foot and stuck out his tongue. Kumaperti swam over and nipped Matthew's leg. It didn't hurt though and wasn't meant to.

 

He was knee high before he realized his mistake. He hadn't been keeping track of Alfred.

 

Before he could get a good look around himself, he was tackled from behind and submerged fully into the water.

 

Sputtering and flailing, Matthew raised his head above the water, “Jerk.”

 

Alfred swam in circles around Matthew, “You were acting like a baby and taking forever to get in. I just helped you out a bit.”

 

Reaching out, Matthew wrapped an arm around the other man's neck and dunked him in. In return, Alfred pushed himself away and dunked Matthew back.

 

After wrestling and chasing each other for nearly half an hour, the two lay on the sand and let waves lap at their feet. They panted for breath.

 

“I was totally holding back you know.”

 

Matthew did know. Alfred was freakishly strong, but...

 

“You were not.”

 

Laughing and shrieking at the same time, Matthew was pinned down. His hands sunk a bit in the wet sand.

 

Alfred had both his wrists grasped and stared down with a smirk, “You were saying?”

 

A red flush covered Matthew's face, and he nodded, “Y-you win.”

 

Meanwhile he thought, _“Please don't look down. I cannot let you see my erection.”_

 

Alfred huffed and laid back down, but closer this time and rested his head on Matthew's chest. The man snuggled his face into Matthew's neck.

 

“I can't believe we won't live with each other anymore after today”, said Alfred, voice whining again.

 

“We'll be on the same continent. And our houses aren't too terribly far apart.”

 

“I know. It's just-”

 

Placing a hand on America's wet hair, Canada said, “Don't worry about it. We'll always be together okay?”

 

“Yeah...”

 

Matthew chose to ignore the suspicious sniffle that he heard. He just stroked through those soft strands.

 

#

 

In the distance Matthew saw the shore, still small but holding a promise for a bright future. He leaned along the edge of the boat, looking down into the water. Kuma-something-or-other curled up by his feet with a miserable expression. The bear was not fond of riding on boats.

 

A hand slapped lightly on the back of Matthew's neck. Matthew, being caught up in his thoughts, jumped a bit. Turning, with his bottom perched precariously along the edge and looked at Alfred.

 

“What if I were an enemy Mattie, really,” said Alfred, his tone teasing but his eyes soft with unguarded affection.

 

Alfred moved right up to him and Matthew couldn't help but look behind him to the long drop below into the dark waters, “I'll fall, you shouldn't crowd me.”

 

“You worry too much. I won't let that happen.”

 

“Probably not, but I do tend to get in more trouble with you around as well.”

 

Running a hand through his own hair, Alfred said, “Ha ha, that's likely true.”

 

Then he reached into his long coat and pulled out a package, “Look, while Arthur is busy planning to disembark the ship, I wanted to give you this. I've kept forgetting about it and well...”

 

Matthew took a hastily wrapped object. It wasn't in a box, just a bunch of paper. Sitting inside, gleaming under the noon-day sun, was a necklace made of a thin silver chain. On the end was simple pendant that was a smooth orb of lapis lazuli.

 

Fidgeting with his hands and not meeting Matthew's eyes, Alfred said, “It's probably a weird thing to do, but I saw a matching pair and...”

 

Alfred drew an identical chain from under his shirt.

 

“I guess it's a bit of an odd thing to do-” he whispered.

 

Alfred crossed his arms over his chest, “Ha ha, I thought so. Sorry, I just-”

 

“But I like it. Thank you.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

Matthew put the necklace on and moved to stand back up properly, “Now let's go get our trunks. You are all ready to unboard right? Arthur will probably have your head if you need to pack at the last minute like you did before we left Europe.”

 

“I'm good this time. Besides, there wasn't much else to do here other than pack anyway.”

 

The two young men chatted as they walked together to their individual rooms. All the while, Matthew fingered the cool blue lapis gem.

 

#

 

Getting to his house and getting settled in had taken a bit longer than Matthew had expected. He had a large log house outside of Montreal. There weren't very many towns in his country yet and most of them were in Quebec.

 

Since he hadn't been in his country for such a long time, he also wandered and visited the Aboriginal tribes near his home. They recognized who he was and that he was a nation, so Matthew did enjoy spending time with them. He had plans to make a trek to see some of the Inuit up North as well, but he needed to be well prepared for such a long journey.

 

Meanwhile, he and Alfred had kept in contact via letter carriers. They were busy and letters took a while to arrive, so contact was sparse. Matthew savoured every letter and protected them with care.

 

Eventually, the time had come to get together. They had time and had their affairs in order. Matthew was to visit Alfred in his home in Virginia.

 

America's house was far more grandiose that Canada's own, not that Matthew minded in the slightest. The outside was quite stately, prim and proper. If not for the sheer size of it, Matthew would think that it didn't suit Alfred at all.

 

Waiting at the front doors was Alfred.

 

“ _Had he been waiting for me to arrive?”_ thought Matthew as stepped from his carriage and waved.

 

“Lemme get your trunk,” said Alfred, his usual joyful expression upon his face, “I wouldn't want you to strain a muscle.”

 

Matthew snorted but didn't mind at all. Besides, he was carrying Kumakiko in one arm and his coat was draped over the other.

 

Alfred just lifted a full trunk's worth of belongings with one hand as if it were a pebble.

 

“I got a room set up for when you stay with me. Everything you could need is in there. Man I am so happy that you could come. I have something to tell you too!”

 

The excitement was evident in the way that Alfred started to speak faster. His brother-friend's eyes were lit up and so Matthew couldn't help but be happy too.

 

As he unpacked, Matthew wondered what the news could be.

 

A new city that he was founding? New buildings? Was Arthur coming to visit them?

 

Alfred avoided talking about his news while he watched Matthew unpack. Instead, the man spoke of his house and how great it was. He talked about how awesome his country was going to be and how great it was already.

 

The two took dinner outside at a table that had been set up. It was a simple affair but tasty nonetheless. There was quite a lot of meat, but very succulent.

 

But Matthew still nearly choked on a piece of food when Alfred came right out and said it.

 

“I'm getting married!”

 

Matthew felt his heart drop to his feet. This man, the one he grew up with and loved in so many ways was...getting married? The man had always been somewhat impulsive when it came to his personal life choices.

 

“Which country?” whispered Matthew, looking at his plate as if there was something intensely interesting upon it, “That was so fast. I didn't even know that you were looking.”

 

“Not a country. Um, she's human and I wasn't looking. We just started to talk and she's great. And her parents are upset that she's not married yet. So I proposed.”

 

Snapping his gaze up to Alfred, Matthew's eyes widened, “You know that's not a good idea. She'll become suspicious when you don't age.”

 

“I told her what I am.”

 

“But humans are mortal. They have such short lives and they are so fragile.”

 

“Mattie. I know you're worried about me, but I've thought this out. I care about her.”

 

Yes, Matthew was worried about Alfred for all the reasons that he had stated. But that wasn't his entire problem and he knew it. He just couldn't believe that Alfred couldn't see how much Matthew loved him.

 

“And since we're best friends, I wanted you here for our wedding. I couldn't marry her unless you were here. I know you'll want the same when you find a wife.”

 

Alfred's eyes were so full of innocence and naivety that Matthew understood that his friend didn't know about the deep infatuation that was held for him. There was no way that Matthew was going to say anything to ruin that.

 

“So tell me about her,” whispered Canada.

 

Her name was Susanna. She was twenty-five and a teacher. Suze, as Alfred had taken to call her, was quite beautiful inside and out. She had curly blonde hair, brown eyes and was incredibly kind.

 

When Matthew met her, he didn't blame Alfred one bit for falling for the lovely woman. As soon as she first laid eyes on Matthew, she had flung her arms around him and called him brother. She then made the three of them food. Suze didn't even bat an eye at the fact that Kumatenchi could speak. She just bent down, pet him and offered him some food.

 

She was simply nothing like other human women. So though Matthew felt that he should dislike her on the premise that she got to marry the man that he was in love with, he couldn't.

 

The happy couple wed a week later in front of her parents and members of their town. It was small, but held outside and beautiful, spring flowers blooming all around.

 

Alfred hugged Matthew tightly and thanked him for being there for him before the happy couple went to their marital home.

 

That night, Matthew was thankful that his room was on the other side of the large house.

 

That way nobody would hear the soft sobs he made well into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Sometime around 1775**

Nations were sterile. This made it so that travel was always possible for Alfred and Suze. Not that America wouldn't have loved to give his wonderful wife a child if she had wanted one, but it meant that seeing Mattie was much easier. Besides, Susanna knew that marrying Alfred meant not having kids, and she was okay with that.

Could he have found a woman who was more perfect for him?

Now if only he didn't feel so bad for Mattie, all alone up in his home. He hoped that his brother-friend found a wife of his own.

Alfred had been to Mattie's place before a few times with Suze in the years since they'd been married. Now he felt all the more need to see Canada.

And it wasn't just personal.

"Hello Mattie! Or...um...Bonjour!" said Alfred, rapping several times loudly on the door.

"Come in. You arrived just in time for pancakes," called Mattie, his voice faint from inside the house.

Alfred wandered to where the kitchen was and plopped into a chair, watching the man flip the browning food as it was cooked on a wood-stove.

"Those smell sooo great."

Suze stood behind Alfred, delicate hands on his shoulders, "One day you will have to tell me how you make those so wonderfully. I've tried replicating them but they're never quite the same."

"It's true. Yours are better Mattie," said Alfred, ducking a swat from his wife.

Mattie chuckled and gave Suze a one-armed hug, "Your trip was nice I assume?"

"Yes. As always."

The three ate, making idle chatter. Afterwards, Suze insisted on cleaning up and America and Canada went for a stroll.

Mattie suggested it as he'd probably sensed that Alfred had something on his mind. Mattie had always been good with that sort of thing, intuition and the like.

The two had went in relative silence, naturally walking so close together that their arms brushed. Yet not once did they bump each other uncomfortably. It was pleasant as it always had been and something that Alfred had missed about living so far away.

Alfred finally spoke after skipping a stone across the glassy waters of a lake, "I'm going to war with Arthur."

Mattie's face paled, and Alfred grabbed a hold of his friend's arm to prevent him from falling down.

"W-Why?"

Those violet eyes of Mattie's grew wide and fearful and Canada grabbed Alfred's arms, digging his fingers in so hard that it would have been painful for a human.

"I need to be free from his rule Mattie. My people want to be free."

Matthew was quiet for a long time. Alfred knew that without a doubt, that brain of Mattie's was thinking over every implication of what was just said.

Alfred gave the man a chance to think before asking, "Will you join me?"

Slowly Matthew shook his head, steel in his eyes, "I can't choose between my best friend and the man who raised me. I just can't do it."

"Alright...but can you just think about it?"

"No", said Mattie thinning his lips, "Don't make me choose."

America nodded, "I understand. I thought you might say something like that."

He couldn't deny that he felt a bit of disappointment though.

"So you aren't upset with me," asked Matthew, voice barely audible.

Alfred hugged his friend, "Of course not. I'll never be mad at you."

Matthew placed a hand on Alfred's face and said, "Just be safe, okay?"

"Of course. Don't worry about me. I'm going to be great."

#

**Sometime around 1783**

The blast of a cannon nearby vibrated through his body. Dust clung to him like a second skin and dried blood was caked on an arm-wound. Alfred turned and walked back to his tent at the camp.

America had Arthur and his troops trapped at the base they'd made in Yorktown. The man was being so damned stubborn and hadn't surrendered yet, despite being bombarded with attacks for nearly two weeks.

Eight years of war. That had meant eight years of only occasionally seeing his wife. And eight years of not seeing Mattie at all. After he'd left Canada after asking for assistance in the coming war, Alfred had been unable to return to see his dear friend.

They'd, instead, kept in touch via letter whenever they could. Though his boss had not been happy about that fact, since Canada was still a British colony and his people aided Britain in the war. To be honest, Alfred had really wished that Mattie had helped him out and wished that he'd done something to stop his troops from helping Arthur.

But it hadn't been necessary and he hadn't had to fight Mattie himself, just some of his people. America was winning the war. He was going to be a hero. It was great.

Going into his tent and flopping down on the cot, arm flung over his face in exhaustion, too tired to wash up in the small basin that had been left for him.

He was almost asleep when a throat cleared from the flap of his tent.

"Yes?" he said, not moving an inch.

"A letter from your hometown, sir."

Alfred looked up to see the young soldier, holding out a wax-sealed letter. The young man didn't know that Alfred was a nation. Most of his troops didn't. So they thought that his wife's hometown was also his own.

Holding out his hand, Alfred said, "Bring it here, please. Thank you."

Once the other soldier was gone, Alfred opened the letter with his pocketknife, sliding the blade under the marked blob of wax.

As he began to read, his hands trembled violently and he could barely keep a hold on the parchment.

_I sincerely regret to inform you...her carriage attacked...dead...Susanna..._

Alfred lurched to his feet and ran outside. He leaned over a bush and retched into it, expelling everything he'd eaten that day.

A medic came over to him to see if he was alright. He waved the man off and called a young soldier over.

"Bring me a quill and parchment. I have need to send a missive."

#

Canada flung open the doors to America's home. He'd run from his carriage as soon as the horses slowed to a trot, not waiting to be let out by the driver. The servants in Alfred's house fussed around Matthew but he brushed them off gently.

He didn't have time to be looked after.

He ran up the winding staircase and into Alfred's room.

As soon as Matthew had received the letter, he'd dropped everything and made the long journey to be with Alfred.

The message had been scrawled from the battlefield, though it had been in Alfred's handwriting for certain. He just hoped that he got here before his friend, so that Alfred didn't have to be alone in this house without his beloved wife.

Sitting at a desk that was under a large open window, a breeze blowing through his hair, was America. Bandages covered his hands and one was on his face. One corner of the man's mouth lifted and he stood with a wince. Nations only healed as well as their country fared. Post war-times were always the worst. A single tear tracked down the man's cheek.

For all the running that he'd done, Matthew now approached slowly. He gently touched the injured cheek of his brother-friend. His other hand rested on Alfred's shoulder before he leaned forward and touched their foreheads.

"You look like you were worried for me or something. I'm not so easily brought down," laughed America, but for all his smiling it didn't meet those sorrow filled eyes.

"You fought Arthur. And...and..."

"And beat him."

"I heard. But for months there was no word from you...and then that letter..."

Matthew wrapped his arms around Alfred in a tight hug which the other man gratefully returned.

"The war's over now Mattie. I'm free. My own independent nation..." said Alfred, pausing to gather his thoughts, "...and Suze won't be here to see it."

Alfred fell to his knees, a sob wracking his body as if the floodgates were at last let open. Matthew put his arms in a position to support the heavy weight of his friend and went to move him to the bed.

"No!" cried Alfred.

"Hmm?"

"Not there. Your room," said Alfred, voice cracking, "I've tried sleeping on our bed. But I remember her. I left her in order to fight a battle."

Barely holding up his own weight as they walked, Alfred clung to Matthew. The door to his room was slightly ajar, and Matthew saw that his belongings had been moved from the carriage to the floor at the end of the bed. Kumario was curled up in a soft cushioned chair, awake and watching the two men enter.

"They called me a hero, my troops. What kind of hero leaves his wife by herself?"

"You didn't know that she would be killed on her way to see her family. You did what you needed to do for your country. She knew that."

Pushing aside the blankets, Matthew lay Alfred down on the bed, "Would you like me to get you anything?"

Alfred shook his head and closed his eyes, "Lay with me?"

Slipping off his boots, Matthew lay next to Alfred over the blanket. America stiffly moved his head from his pillow and rested it on Matthew's chest.

"What could I have done differently?"

Canada's heart ached and tears wanted to spring free. He swallowed and refused to let them fall. He had to be strong.

"Nothing. These sorts tragedies happen in war, which is why I abhor such things."

Words were then muttered into the fabric of Matthew's shirt, so quietly that he could barely make them out. However he was pretty sure that he heard, "I know very well how you feel about war my friend."

He wasn't sure, but Matthew could swear that when Alfred said friend, that it sounded bitter. Alfred was probably just upset because of Suze's death. It was obvious, he had just lost his wife.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't worry about it."

Matthew took a deep breath. He didn't want to push things. Confrontation wasn't good. But he felt that Alfred just needed to rant about something, anything and let out his anger.

"No, tell me."

"You really don't want to hear how I feel right now," said Alfred, rolling away so that he wasn't touching Matthew.

"Please."

"Fine. You didn't help me fight Arthur and let your people attack me," said Alfred, "I can't help but feel that if you'd have done something that maybe Susanna would still be alive."

Matthew's breath stopped, and he took several long minutes of agonizing silence before he could speak again, "You don't blame me for her death do you?"

Alfred shrugged as best as he could, given that he was laying on one side. The man still didn't look at Matthew.

"That's not fair. I thought you understood why I didn't choose sides and I'm a British colony. Arthur wanted my people to attack you so they did," said Matthew, looking down at the quilts, picking at a loose string.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"But I-"

Alfred rolled over so fast that Matthew didn't see it coming. His hand pushed at Canada's chest with a snarl, "I changed my mind about laying with you. Just go away for a while."

Matthew picked up Kumasuma and walked away, holding the little animal far too tightly than was probably good.

#

**April 1813**

Over the next couple of decades, communication grew sparse between the two men. Both of their nations were growing, even if Canada was still just a colony. Matthew really didn't mind still being under British rule. He really hated conflict anyway.

He just wished that Alfred had more to time at least write.

He'd asked if he could make travels to see him and Alfred had insisted that he was just too busy.

It hurt Canada more than he could say. But he understood. Everything would go back to normal eventually.

So that was why Matthew was so stunned when, nearly thirty years after America became Independent, he awoke to an attack.

Matthew had rolled from his bed and stood at the ready as soon as he'd heard the door open. However his attacker moved faster, having been prepared.

The point of a bayonet caused a prick of pain in Canada's forehead. He felt a bead of blood drip down, over and off of his nose.

"Why?" said Matthew.

The question he'd asked had been whispered into his bedroom in the darkness of the night to the one man that he'd thought was his best friend.

The man he was in love with, America.

The man who now aimed a musket at him, a firm and impassive look on Alfred's face.

"You know why Mattie."

"Don't call me that with a weapon pointed my way," he yelled, though his voice was still unbearably quiet.

America chuckled, but instead of being full of joy as it usually was, the sound had an undertone of anger, "You're right Canada. I shouldn't call you that right now. Nicknames are for friends, aren't they?"

"That's right. But we can go back to being friends, if you just end this pointless war," said Matthew.

Backing up as if in surrender, Matthew aimed to move to the desk in the room he was staying in. He had to do it in such as way as to not arouse suspicion.

"It's not pointless. Don't you want to become part of me?"

"No. I'm me, Canada."

"No! You're one of Arthur's damned colonies," yelled Alfred, his musket shaking in a way that Matthew had never seen before, "I'd give you more independence than he ever would. It's because of him that Suze is gone."

As soon as Alfred's eyes closed in the wake of his rant, Matthew slid the drawer in the desk open and removed his pistol. He feinted to the left, watching the shocked look on America's face at just how fast Canada could move.

He made a move to the right, dodging a jab with the bayonet. Matthew sidled up to Alfred and pressed the pistol into the man's temple.

"That's where you're wrong. He never forced me to be his colony with violence to my person. You never even asked. You demanded right from the start, invading my lands with your soldiers. And Arthur never intended for your wife to die. Did you ever even tell him that you'd wed? I can't hold that against him. Now drop the musket."

"Y-you wouldn't really shoot me...would you Mattie? I- just hear me out."

Alfred almost sounded as if he'd come out from under a daze.

Swallowing back the bile in his throat, Matthew cocked the pistol and coldly said, "I told you not to call me that. You've invaded my territory, burned my cities and stolen what's mine. By doing that, you may as well have injured me yourself. You may as well have brought me to my knees and kicked me."

"Under orders. My boss t-told me to."

"And did you have to be on the front lines? Did you have to come here in the middle of the night, find me in the inn and hold a gun to my head and demand my surrender? Back when you had you revolution, I personally never joined the battles. You are just upset that I didn't help you fight Arthur before, aren't you?"

Alfred said nothing, just dropped his weapon.

"I will not give in. Not now and not ever. You and your troops will soon find out what it means to fight a Canadian, even if we can't be called that yet."

Kicking Alfred's weapon away and making sure that it was safely across the room, Matthew backed away.

"Leave my home."

"Please-"

"Now!"

Alfred ran out fast, joining his soldiers who were involved in the capture and looting of York. Matthew grabbed his weapons and went to fend off the attackers.

#

**August 1814**

From the behind the lines of his soldiers, Matthew watched as the White House was set ablaze. Smoke billowed up into the sky in thick plumes.

His fists clenched around his weapon, his body tense and on alert from battle.

Tears rolled down Canada's cheeks as he went to help out his soldiers.

He wished that things had never had to go this far.

Because he knew that his friendship with Alfred, the man he loved so dearly, would never be the same. Alfred had broken that childhood promise to protect him and Matthew knew they'd never be together forever.

Not now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Author's Note: Don't worry. This doesn't end here. This will have a happy ending eventually. :) All of the chapters are written except the last one, I am just in the process of editing them.))


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Author's Note: Any speech here that starts with a ~, means that the words are spoken in french. I thought I'd had that for a bit of flavour. When I read stories, I like mentally adding in accents where applicable. So I thought it'd be useful here? ))

1850

After the signing of the Treaty of Ghent, Matthew and Alfred still wrote each other but their letters were depressingly formal. Only the basic necessities were discussed. Matthew didn't know how to break the ice. He was still hurt emotionally from Alfred's attack and from the blame that his friend had laid on him for the death of Susanna.

He spent many years alone, only very rarely getting letters from Arthur or Francis. It was during those years that he found himself married. Though it had not been a union of romantic love. 

Matthew had been hiking through the woods, quite a few miles outside of Quebec City. He had been staying in town for a while and wanted to go for a walk that strayed from the beaten path. Get away from people for a while.

He and Kumatro went through the woods and underbrush as if he were strolling through a field. Matthew had become quite the woodsman and was faster than a normal human would be.

Birds were chirping happily and Matthew was so very relaxed that he didn't hear the odd sounds that came to him until he was already in the small clearing.

Two women, both looking to be just barely into adulthood (if even), were embracing. Naked. Kissing.

Face turned beet red, Matthew stumbled back, yelping when he tripped over an exposed root on the ground.

He hit his head on a tree and moaned.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” he mumbled, reaching up to his head and bringing it down to see it red with blood, “Fantastic.”

Things just got better and better when one of the naked women, hastily redressed in her undergarments, held a large stone over him. The look in her eyes was murderous and she seemed about to hurl the rock at his head. She had mousey brown hair that was pleated behind her tightly and freckles all over her fair face.

Matthew was pretty sure that the only reason that he didn't get smashed over the head was the smaller red-headed woman behind her who pleaded for her companion to not do anything hasty.

The brown haired girl snarled words in french, ~”Were you spying on us?”~

Matthew frantically shook his head, ~”I was just on a hike.”~

~”See Julie? He wasn't spying,”~ said the red-head.

~”Maybe not, but I've seen him in town. He'll tell the authorities. We've got to kill him Evette,”~ said brown-hair, Julie.

Red-head Evette's eyes widened, ~”No. We cannot commit such a sin.”~

Matthew raised his hand, ~”I promise that I won't tell. B-Besides, it would be my word against both of yours.”~

So it would take a lot to kill a nation and even should it happen, Matthew would resurrect so long as the country of Canada was around. However he wasn't exactly keen on being killed. Especially not by some crazy woman.

~”Are you stupid? You are a man, a wealthy one at that. Everybody will believe you over us any day. And I don't have the best reputation in town anyway.”~

~”I w-wonder why,”~ Matthew thought, though it seemed that he spoke the words aloud in his stress at confrontation and from seeing those ladies naked. Which had been his first time ever seeing a woman nude. Matthew could hear Alfred laughing now if he ever found out that little tidbit.

He truly wished he hadn't said anything when the rock came hurtling down at him, missing and hitting his shoulder.

~”Ow,”~ cried Matthew.

Kumayami leapt at Julie and bit her leg. She screamed in pain and punched the bear. Evette pulled the white furred creature away.

Kumayami went and licked at Matthew's shoulder gently, whimpering his displeasure at the situation. Julie hobbled away a bit and glared daggers over to Matthew and the bear while Evette tore strips of cloth from her dress to make a bandage.

~”Are you okay?”~ asked Matthew, petting Kumauki between his ears to soothe the creature's worries. The nation had been dealt worse injuries.

Only his pride was hurt what with being hurt by a small human woman. He supposed that was what he got for underestimating a woman though. Matthew was well aware of how ferocious female nations could be, just as much so as their male counterparts. He just never knew humans could be quite as dangerous if they put their minds to it.

Julie huffed and crossed her arms.

Evette made a wobbly smile and said, ~”We'll be fine Monsieur.”~

Even still, Matthew stood but waited. He watched as Julie tried to stand up and ended up falling to her feet.

~”You have a deep cut there. You'll need to be carried home,”~ said Matthew, stepping forward.

~”I'd rather die.”~

Evette gasped and shook her head.

Matthew simply said, ~”Be that as it may, your lover surely feels differently.”~

Julie narrowed her eyes and then slumped a bit against a tree before she grumbled, ~”Fine. But if you touch me anywhere unnecessary, I will throw up on you.”~

So Matthew did carry the small woman back to the city. It was a struggle, since every wrong move caused Julie to start preparing for or succeeding in slapping or hitting Matthew. Evette followed behind meekly wringing her hands the whole while.

Julie directed Matthew to a fairly decently sized home on the outskirts of the city. A servant ran out right away to see to Julie, who was apparently a lady of noble standing.

~”M'Lady, let us see to your injury right away,”~ fretted a servant, ordering Evette to get supplies.

Matthew placed Julie on a bed just as a frantic older couple ran in.

~”What happened child?”~ asked the father, in a demanding tone of voice. 

In a significantly more respectful tone than what she had used with Matthew, Julie replied, ~“I was out walking with my handmaiden when I was attacked by a wolf. This gentleman saved me, father.”~

Evette was a servant it seemed. One who was hovering in the outskirts of the room, wetting cloths for a man to clean Julie's wound.

~“Is this the truth?”~ said the father, raising a brow and looking at Matthew.

Did this man not believe his own daughter?

~“Yes it is. I was out on a hike,”~ said Matthew, hoping that he didn't betray any of the nervousness that he felt.

~“Well then. Thank you for saving my troublesome daughter,”~ said the man, huffing in frustration as he glared down at Julie who crossed her arms and snorted in response, ~“You realize that such things would not happen if you wouldn't frighten away suitors.”~

Julie said, ~“And I told you that I'd rather die than let a man have sex me.”~

The mother gasped and said, ~“That is the talk of the devil.”~

The father nodded, ~“I've tried to overlook this, but you are clearly possessed. You've been too wilful and not at all like a good Christian woman. We'll get a priest in here right away and a doctor. Bloodletting cured that mad woman down the road afterall.”~

Matthew blurted out words before he could stop himself, ~”I'll wed her.”~

The father turned with wide eyes, ~”Pardon me?”~

~”Rot in hell,”~ snarled Julie.

The situation was spiralling out of control. Matthew placed a hand over Julie's mouth. She bit his hand but he used ever ounce of self-control to stop the urge to wince and show his pain, ~”She will be a good wife for my needs. I live in a large house outside of Montreal and I travel often between it and Toronto. So I need a tough woman for my travels. My name is Matthew Williams by the way.”~

Matthew looked into Julie's eyes and pleaded with her to understand and not argue with him. Though she may be stubborn, she did seem to understand when somebody was trying to help her because she stopped biting and was quiet.

The father's shrewd eyes glanced to Matthew as if seeing the man in a new light, ~”Are you a business man? You seem familiar.”~

~”Politics,”~ said Matthew and then added, ~”I work under the Governor General.”~

Which was true in a sense. The Governor General did know who and what he was. That man was who delivered Matthew any orders from the Queen of England or from Arthur.

The father scrutinized Matthew for a good long while before nodding his head. 

~”I will allow this,”~ said the man, beckoning for Matthew, ~”Come with me. We shall work out the details.”~

Just as Julie looked like she was about to be difficult once more, Matthew added, ~”Her hand-maiden comes with her though.”~

Four Days Later

They were wed quickly. Julie's parents seemed happy to see her gone, which Matthew thought was rather a shame. No parents should be so uncaring for their children. Matthew couldn't understand humans sometimes.

Perhaps Nations weren't the same because they had different priorities?

A nation lived for so many years that certain things disdained by humans weren't as big of a deal for nations. 

The wedding was small and he and Julie weren't to speak for most of the wait before the day itself. Not many people were invited to the ceremony, nor the modest reception afterwards. 

Since the wedding was held in the morning, Matthew had prepared a carriage to leave that day for his home outside of Toronto.

~”If you are planning to make me have relations with you, I feel that you will be disappointed. I will murder you in your sleep. Same goes if you even look funny towards Evette. She may not be as adverse to men as I am, but I've vowed to protect her from men who want to use her.”~

Matthew rolled his eyes at what his new wife said to him about killing him. Though her desire to protect her lover was nice. She had her head poked out of the curtain that separated the driver's seat which Matthew was in, and the seating area for passengers.

~”That won't be a problem,”~ he said in monotone.

Kumanemo snorted from beside him. The little bear hadn't spoken in days, since they were around humans, and was likely dying to voice his opinion.

~”So then, why did you do this for me and Evette?”~

Matthew sighed and decided that telling the truth was a good start to their marriage, ~”I'm what some people would call a sodomite.”~

He cringed, waiting for the outburst. While Nations didn't speak about it, many of them were male and it wasn't unheard of by any means for them to engage in sexual acts with other males of their kind. They simply kept such information from humans, who generally despised those sorts of sexual acts for reasons that Matthew didn't understand.

~”Oh,”~ said Julie and turned around.

Evette, usually quite silent and submissive which Matthew now understood came from being brought up as a servant, spoke, ~”So you understood what Julie and I had to go through.”~

~”I've never had a lover, but I get how hard it would be for you two to have to hide the obvious love you feel for each other.”~

Julie still hadn't spoken, just made a grunt.

~”Thank you then, kind sir,”~ said Evette, gaining another grunt from Julie.

Matthew shrugged even though the women wouldn't be able to see him do so, ~”This arrangement is beneficial to both of us. Julie pretends to be my wife whenever I'm in public, which is admittedly not often. Evette pretends to be our servant. The arrangement makes sense to the public and you two can be with each other.”~

He waited while Evette gasped and he heard her ply kisses to her lover's cheeks. Julie spoke too low for Matthew to hear, but the tone sounded loving.

He smiled. This was good.

“Hungry”, said Kumaterro.

Both woman popped up and looked out of the curtain, ~”What was that?”~ said Julie.

~”N-nothing,”~ fretted Matthew, gripping tighter to the reins of his horses.

Kumataro, who could also speak french when he chose to, said, ~”I can talk. Now you, I'm hungry.”~

~”Mon Dieu,”~ gasped Evette, before she fainted.

Her lover must have caught her in time because Matthew didn't hear a thud of a body falling. He decided to stop the carriage along the side of the road and he glared down at his polar bear, ~”I told you to avoid talking until the right time to explain everything came around. Geez~”~

~”They'd find out eventually. I sped things along. Food. Now.”~

Grumbling under his breath about damned bears, Matthew went to the back of the carriage and dug around for some fish that he'd bought before he left. He tossed one up onto the bench that the bear was on.

He climbed to the back of the carriage and sat down and waited for Julie to rouse Evette. Once both of them were awake and sitting down, he began: ~”So, this will likely sound unbelievable but you should listen and try to be understanding. Each nation in the world has a spiritual manifestation. I am one for these lands . My human name, as you know, is Matthew Williams. But when I was born into the wilderness of this colony, the name I knew in my heart was Canada.”~

Both women's jaws had dropped. Explaining this was awful. How did Alfred do this with Susanna and not die of nervousness?

~”Um, I guess I also wanted you two to be with me because I'm sort of lonely. Nations live forever, so long as their countries are intact in some way. I'm young compared to others of my kind, but I've still been around for at least a human lifetime.”~

He bounced his legs up and down and chewed on a fingernail.

~”Could you say something? I've never had to explain this before. I've never had a human friend before who didn't already know about nations and I'm sort of losing my mind here.”~

Julie was the first to break the silence, ~”Personally, I think that you are stark raving mad, and that you've somehow drugged us to hear that bear talk. However I've been accused of madness as well. So what do I know.”~

Laughing in relief, Matthew leaned back in his seat.

~”I will still kill you if you touch me though,”~ said Julie, leaning back and crossing her legs.

~”Of course.”~

#

To say that Alfred wasn't happy to hear about Matthew's marriage was an understatement.

Matthew had written to his friend with the information a week after the event. Yet he didn't hear from Alfred for nearly a year afterwards.

One morning he was at the stove, flipping pancakes, humming to himself. Julie was awake and was outside on the porch. The front door was open to let in the fresh spring morning air. His 'wife' was carving small animal figurines to sell in town. She had apparently always wanted to carve wood, but as a woman, had been discouraged to participate in such a manly pursuit. Now she happily created her art and sold them to contribute to the household. Julie didn't even seem to mind that when selling them, people assumed that Matthew had made them.

Evette still cleaned around the house, more than just her own messes. Matthew insisted that he'd been cleaning his own house for decades and that Evette didn't need to actually act as the servant she was pretending to be.

She insisted though. Old habits die hard Matthew supposed.

Just as Matthew poured the last of the batter into the iron pan, he heard Julie start to speak loudly, though after spending a year with her, Matthew knew that she wasn't yelling or very angry, ~“Who are you?”~

“Is that french? 'Cause I don't speak that.”

Alfred.

Matthew forgot all about his cooking and ran outside, eyes wide. It'd been so long since he'd seen his friend. Well over three years and even then, their visit had been about business. 

“Mattie?” said Alfred, smiling but not running to grab Matthew into a hug as he usually would. 

“Al?” he said breathlessly, wishing they were still close enough for Matthew to say how much he missed his friend.

Julie had enough of being ignored as she stepped up and got right in Matthew's face, ~”Who is this?”~

Matthew replied in English since he was really trying to get the girls to learn it, “This is my friend, ~mon ami~, Alfred.” 

And Julie understood who Alfred was at once. Matthew had told her...no sorry...he'd told Evette the story of him and Alfred and how he felt about the other nation. Julie pretended to be busy in the background while acting as if she wasn't listening. He knew that the stubborn woman had heard every word. 

“Al, this is my wife, Julie.”

For just a second Matthew could swear that Alfred's eyes darkened a shade. Then he smiled and extended his hand to kiss the top of Julie's. The woman took the hand and shook Alfred's with a strong grip like a man would, her eyes stony.

“Um, nice to meet you,” said Julie, some of the words so accented that they couldn't be understood.

Then she went back to her carvings.

“Oh shoot! My pancake,” said Matthew, running in to flip the food which was burnt on the one side.

He disposed of the ruined piece of food, ignoring the piercing stare into the back of his head. Biting his lip, he took out plates and set out four places. Alfred sat at the table and Matthew dared meet his eyes.

“Why didn't you invite me to your wedding?” asked Alfred, a hint of anger in his tone. 

Matthew asked for Julie to go find Evette and then handed Alfred the syrup, “It was a quick and spur of the moment thing.”

“I would have married Suze nearly as soon as I met her as well, but I wanted you to be there with me.”

Taking the glass bottle filled with amber liquid back when Alfred was done, he said, “We haven't spoken about anything personal in decades. I didn't think you'd care.”

He stared at his plate, poking at the fluffy golden circles with his fork. He didn't want to see Alfred's face.

“Of course I'd care.”

“In that case, when did you get my letter?”

A pause, then, “Not too long afterwards. I needed to gather my thoughts.”

“So?”

“I just wanted to see my best friend.”

Matthew smiled, but he didn't feel happy. He knew that being called Alfred's best friend was just to make them both feel better. It was no longer true. 

Julie and Evette broke up the tension by coming in. Evette introduced herself in broken English but a warm smile. 

Later that night

Breakfast had gone well. Evette chatted amicably in English whenever she could. Alfred was, as usually, a charmer. Julie wasn't caustic, which actually stunned Matthew. He sort of wondered if the woman was planning to stab Alfred between the shoulder blades if he turned away from her.

Yet all day long, she pretty much ignored Alfred. Matthew was pretty relieved that she was behaving.

The moonlight washed over the two men, bathing them in it's silvery sheen. Matthew sat on a large log kept on his property to act as a bench and gazed at the stars. Alfred stood behind him, rubbing his shoulders, kneading out any lingering tension. The man hadn't asked, he just started to massage.

They said nothing. One would think that after so many years of only sparse and formal contact that such silence would be uncomfortable. Yet after the tension-filled conversation at breakfast, they'd fallen back into the same comfort as they'd always shared.

Alfred suddenly began pointing to the top floor of Matthew's house. One window was lit up by a lantern and showed two figures quite clearly.

It seemed that the girls were no longer used to having to hide and forgot that Alfred was around.

“She's not faithful to you?” cried Alfred, ready to storm up to the house.

Matthew put a hand on his arm, “It's not like that. Well...I mean it looks like that but it isn't. I mean. It's...”

Alfred turned and chuckled, “Always so wonderful with words. So how is it then Mattie?”

So Matthew told him, “I met them being intimate with each other while I was on a walk. She threatened me, Kumaverto bit her leg so hard that she wouldn't have been able to walk back through the thick forest. When I took her back I overheard her father saying bad things about Julie being too unruly and something about bloodletting. I just blurted out that I'd marry her.”

Alfred sat back down and Matthew felt the man's eyes on him as he continued, “I thought it'd be nice to have somebody here. And this way nobody wonders why I don't have a wife.”

What he didn't say was how lonely he'd been. How badly he needed somebody, anybody there for him. 

“Are you happy with this?”

“Yes. They are very nice, helpful and decent company.”

“Don't you want a real wife though? One to share your bed?”

Matthew didn't answer for a while before he said, “This is fine.”

Both men went back to watching the stars, crickets chirping, an owl hooted and in the far off distance a wolf cried it's lonely song.

“If you are happy, then I'm happy too.”

Alfred's hand lifted and almost went up to stroke Matthew's cheek before it pulled back at the last moment and rested back on the shoulder it was rubbing.

#

1910

Alfred was ashamed at himself at how infrequently that he visited Mattie. Yet every time that he saw his friend's face, he was haunted with memories of Matthew saying that he wouldn't help in Alfred's war against Arthur. He'd remember putting the gun against Mattie's head and feeling the man's retaliation in kind, the cool metal against his temple. He'd remember the flames of the White House as it burned, watching from a distance. Mattie's face seemed so cool and impassive from the distance when he'd set fire to the President's home.

Then there was how he'd treated Mattie afterwards and how hurt Alfred had been when Mattie didn't invite him to his wedding. Sure he'd learned later that the marriage was technically a sham, but still.

All that on top of how busy Alfred was in his own country.

How could they go back to just being such close friends again?

About sixty years after Mattie got married, give or take, Alfred made the journey up to see his friend again. As usual, he tried to plan the trip to be there for breakfast. He had super great luck, so he'd likely get there in time to smell delicious pancakes cooking.

Sure enough, by looking at the sun, Alfred knew that it was still the right time of morning. He'd had to travel a bit through the night but it would all be worth it.

As he climbed the steps to the house though, he didn't smell food cooking.

He knocked but there was no answer. 

Alfred has sworn that he'd seen the carriage still around and the horses in the stables.

So he let himself inside.

“Mattie?”

The first floor was empty and as he climbed the stairs he heard a sobbing.

“Mattie!”

He flung the door to Mattie's room open but it was empty. Next we went into the girl's room. His jaw dropped at the sight.

Both women lay there. They were in their eighties, and as humans, had all the signs of age. Wrinkles covered their frail bodies. Julie had white hair and Evette had silver. They didn't look much different since Alfred had visited Mattie five years previous.

But right then, the two were ghostly pale, eyes closed and unmoving.

Mattie sat upon a chair at their bed, head laying on the mattress beside Julie. Sobs shook his shoulders and he clung tightly to Kumajirou. 

“Mattie?” said Alfred, slowly putting a hand on the man's back.

Mattie's red eyed gaze snapped up to Alfred, tears tracked down his cheeks, “Al? Oh God.”

The man flung himself into Alfred's arms, all but dropping his beloved polar bear. Tears soaked into Alfred's shirt. Al hugged his friend close. 

“They died in their sleep. Peacefully and together. But they're gone. I knew it was coming but I...just...I wasn't even in love with them and yet I feel so sad!”

Alfred rubbed a hand up and down his friend's trembling back and rested his chin atop Mattie's head. Mattie clutched at Alfred's jacket, “I can't even imagine how you felt after Susanna died. You loved her so much.”

There was not much that Alfred could or would say. All of his previous grievances over their shared past seemed irrelevant in the wake of Mattie's grief.

“I'll be alone again now,” whispered Mattie.

Alfred's heart clenched for his friend.

“No, because I will be there more, okay? Always. I won't stay away that long again.”

Matthew just continued to cry. Kumajirou rubbed up against his owner's leg, nuzzling in with his nose. 

Later, once Alfred had dragged Mattie out of the room and let the man cry his fill, they began to dig the graves.

Mattie wanted them in the shade of a tree that Julie and Evette had liked to take lunches under. The digging took quite a long time and required a lot of breaks, even for somebody as strong as a nation. Though Matthew had tried to refuse rest, Alfred had forced him to at least eat and drink.

Both graves were dug, together so that the lovers could always lay with each other. That was Mattie's idea.

Piling the dirt back up was easier by a long shot and soon everything was all filled in. Mattie went and grabbed a bunch of rocks as a grave marker.

“I'll get a proper tombstone when I go to town. This will have to suffice.”

A small prayer was said by Matthew in french. He explained that while Julie was not a believer, Evette was and would have liked a prayer at her funeral.

“They loved each other so much. Both of them brought so much light into my life while they were there and watching their love made me so happy,” said Mattie, kneeling at the freshly upturned dirt.

Alfred placed his hand on his brother-friend's shoulder. He rubbed gently. Mattie turned and rested his head upon Alfred's thigh and just closed his eyes.

“Tired...”

Mattie fell asleep right then and there. It was a good thing that Alfred had the strength that he did because he had to catch Mattie and carry him into the house. 

Since his friend was covered in dirt, Alfred put him down and went to fetch heated water to fill a tub with. Once filled with hot and steamy water, Alfred set about stripping Mattie. He wasn't embarrassed as he'd seen Mattie naked tonnes of times as kids. Sure he'd grown bigger since then, but that didn't matter.

What mattered was cleaning Canada up.

Mattie's eyes popped open upon being lowered into the water. His face flushed red when he looked around himself.

“Is the water too hot?” asked Alfred.

Darn, he really thought that he'd checked the temperature.

Mattie shook his head in the negative and turned his body away from Alfred.

“You've already cried in front of me. No need to feel ashamed Mattie,” said Alfred, gathering towels and a pitcher to dump water over Mattie's head. 

“N-no, it's not that. I'm just more comfortable with my body facing the wall.”

Alfred smiled. His friend could be so weird sometimes.

Grabbing a wash cloth, Alfred wet it and brought it to wipe at Mattie's face. Those violet eyes slid closed and the man let Alfred clean him. He actually looked peaceful and relaxed, so Alfred didn't stop washing. Every now and then, Alfred fingered the lapis necklace around the man's neck. The sign of their friendship.

A bar of soap was nearby and Alfred used it to lather up the cloth before washing down each sinewy limb. Lost in the moment, he went slowly and washed thoroughly. Once he was at his groin which was still turned away from him, he gently lifted Mattie's hand and placed the cloth in it. Mattie's eyes opened and seemed almost hazy, his breath coming out in pants.

“Are you sure that you're okay?”

Mattie nodded, “Thank you. Can you step outside for a moment while I do this?”

“Sure thing. Just call if you need me.”

Alfred waited outside, busying himself with changing the bedding on Mattie's mattress so it would be clean for the man.

Ten minutes later Mattie came out wrapped in the robe that had been hung on the back of his bathroom door. The man flopped down onto the bed and huffed.

Alfred tucked the heavy quilts around his friend before brushing a strand of hair out of Mattie's face. He thought that Mattie was asleep as his breathing had evened out, but just as he went to turn, a hand darted out and grabbed his wrist.

“Don't leave me again.”

“Hmmm? You want me to lay with you as we used to?”

Mattie shook his head, “Not necessary. I just don't want you to be gone for so many years at a time again and-”

He sobbed a couple times before speaking again, “-and please stop sending me such formal letters. I hate it.”

That voice was broke several times while it rang out into the room, hitting Alfred's heart with each uttered word.

“I promise Canada, I won't ever treat you like that again. You're my friend, forever. My best pal. I'll always be there for you.”

Alfred leaned down and hugged his friend one last time before blowing out the candle on the bedside stand on shutting the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Author's Note: I am so, so sorry for ending this one sad too. I feel mean. Does it make you feel better to know that I cried while writing that end part, where the girls die? I liked Julie and Evette. But it does get better, eventually.))


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: It occurred to me that I haven't added a disclaimer yet. I know disclaimers offer no legal protection, but they are polite. So in case you didn't know, all credit for Hetalia and it's characters goes to Hidekaz Himaruya. I just like to play with them a bit, even though they aren't mine.

**Chapter Five**

 

**Present Day**

 

Their friendship did resume with plenty more communication between then two of them. However they never quite got back to their usual camaraderie and closeness.

 

America got egotistical, more than he had been that is. Canada had always been overshadowed by him before, but now Matthew was nearly invisible. At least he might as well have been for how much people actually paid attention to him. In meetings, his turn was always skipped over. Sometimes Matthew would actually lift up his own hand to see if it was translucent.

 

It never was to his eyes.

 

What hurt more was not how other countries saw him, but the fact that Alfred would still forget about Matthew sometimes. He'd even seem to oversee Matthew at times.

 

Oh they'd still hang out, and they were friends for sure. However country business came first, and Alfred was often hanging out with other nations. It made sense, Alfred had to build relations with other countries. Canada and America were already allies.

 

But it was never the same as it had been and Alfred didn't seem to be able to see how much it pained Canada. Matthew even knew that Alfred honestly thought that he was keeping up with his promise to always be there for him.

 

The man was truly clueless, but his heart was in the right place. So no matter what, Matthew just couldn't stop loving the guy.

 

He sighed deeply as he listened to his boss chatting with America's boss. Honestly, he didn't know why he had to be there. Neither the President, nor the Prime Minister ever bothered to pay attention to the present nations.

 

There weren't even any decent foods or snacks. It was all just fancy hors d'oeuvres and other foods that were tasty, but didn't help distract Matthew at all or fill him up.

 

Man he'd kill for a beer.

 

Alfred poked his arm several times and Matthew turned his head to look over at the man. His eyes rolled and he bounced a bit in his seat, then leaned over to whisper, “I'm so bored. Wanna go get drinks after this? We haven't hung out properly in a while.”

 

“You read my mind. I was just thinking that I wanted one. But not the piss that you Americans call beer. I need a real brew.”

 

“Hey, ours tastes fine.”

 

“If it's water-flavoured beer.”

 

Alfred tried to pout, but a smile was creeping onto his face, “Not fair. Fine, but I wanna go somewhere that serves hamburgers.”

 

“A bar that serves burgers? Unheard of.”

 

Alfred snorted, a bit too loud since the two country leaders looked over at them. Canada stifled a smile. It was always Al who got people's attention, for better or for worse.

 

Nudging Matthew one more time, Alfred smiled sheepishly at his boss.

 

“Sorry sir.”

 

The leaders turned away and resumed their chats. Matthew giggled quietly, being adept at going unheard. Matthew poke Alfred under his rubs, eliciting a cry of laughter.

 

Once again the president turned to the nations and said, “We are done talking about anything important. Why don't you boys head out for the day?”

 

Boys? Matthew disliked when human leaders spoke to them as if they were teenagers just because they looked that way physically. Both Matthew and Alfred were old enough to be great-great-great grandfathers to the these men, at the very least.

 

Despite his internal frustration, Matthew's face remained impassive. Alfred gestured to the door and started to bid his farewells to the humans.

 

Once out of the building and in Alfred's mustang, away from eavesdroppers, Matthew said, “Maple, I'd like to give them a what-for sometimes. Boys my arse.”

 

Alfred reached over and patted Matthew's dress-pants clad knee, “I love your whisper yell. It's cute.”

 

Oh, if only that hand would go higher on his leg. Over two centuries of longing for a man too clueless to see Matthew's desperate yearning and being too shy to say anything himself took it's toll.

 

He was so horny.

 

Sure he'd had sex before. He wasn't **THAT** pathetic, but it wasn't the same thing at all. He didn't have to have been intimate with Alfred before to know that it would be so much better.

 

It would have been like not ever having had steak and being given ground beef instead. You don't know for sure how the streak tastes but you do know it would be better than the ground beef.

 

Eventually Matthew just gave up on sex with human men. He'd tried women, but they didn't do much for Matthew even if they did smell pretty and look cute. He had his hand and, thanks to easy access to sex shops, he had a plethora of sex toys.

 

And why hadn't Alfred moved his hand? Oh, and was the other guy talking to him?

 

“Earth to Mattie,” said Alfred, getting is face right close to Matthew, “You hear me? I asked where you wanted to go.”

 

“Um...you know the city better than I do, you can decide,” said Matthew, struggling to keep his breathing steady as Alfred's hand moved up a little.

 

It wasn't by more than half an inch, but enough for Matthew's over active imagination to make his groin harden a bit.

 

“Okay, in that case, I know the perfect place to go.”

 

#

 

Alfred had recently discovered a quaint little pub hidden in a basement in the downtown area of town. It wasn't very heavily advertised or easy to see from the street. Yet the establishment was cozy and well run. Once he'd found it, Alfred had gone often.

 

As soon as they entered, Alfred was given his favourite circular booth in the back, away from prying eyes.

 

“Isn't this awesome”, said Alfred, holding open both arms and looking around.

 

“Yeah. It really reminds me of old bars that we used to go to. The exposed grey stone walls are a nice touch”, said Mattie, fingering the dark leather seating.

 

“Right? Okay, so how many burgers do you want? They're huge but good. Lots of cheese and bacon on them. I'm getting three.”

 

Mattie's eyes widened while he shook his head.

 

“Er, do they have anything other than burgers?”

 

“No. You have to get burgers”, said Alfred, crossing his arms and sticking out his lower lip.

 

Mattie opened his mouth and Alfred slapped a hand over it lightly, “And they don't have pancakes.”

 

Once Alfred moved his hand, Mattie said, “Fine. I'll get one hamburger. No bacon but I guess some cheese will be okay.”

 

A waiter came by with a pad of paper and a pen, “What will you two gentlemen have today?”

 

They ordered their food along with a two bottles each of Canadian beer with orders to bring more when they were done.

 

They chatted about nothing in particular, though mostly hockey, until their food came along.

 

Alfred ate his while he watched Mattie attempt to properly hold the burger. It was huge in the other man's hands, and dripped condiments all over the plate.

 

As Mattie brought the burger to his mouth, ketchup dripped down his chin.

 

“You're doing it all wrong”, said Alfred, putting his food down in order to swipe over the ketchup on Mattie's chin and lick it off of his own finger.

 

Mattie's face flushed, which he did all the time. Or at least Mattie always flushed whenever Alfred touched him. So shy.

 

“W-well you're almost always holding a burger. They're like a second limb for you.”

 

Snorting, Alfred just went at his own meal again, “You just aren't used to fine American cuisine. Up there in Canadia with your pancakes, and goopy gravy cheese fries.”

 

Alfred made a dramatic face and pretended to vomit.

 

“It's poutine, and it's good.”

 

“Sounds like the name of something you'd do after you ate it. Poutine.”

 

Mattie frowned, “Hey, I heard that joke on a stand-up comedy show.”

 

“Do you remember who told the joke?”

 

Tapping his fingers on the table as if in thought, Mattie eventually said, “Well...no, but that doesn't matter.”

 

“It does. You can't prove it. For all you know I made that joke up.”

 

Mattie pouted. So cute. It's a wonder why his brother-friend wasn't dating anybody.

 

Then Alfred remembered something that he'd heard. Something that made him upset for some reason and made him almost squeeze his burger too hard. He set the food down before he ruined it.

 

“I heard that you have been hanging out with that dirty commie a bit as of late.”

 

“He isn't a communist.”

 

“Whatever. Russia is psycho-nuts Mattie.”

 

Mattie shrugged, “He's not that bad. We play hockey together and get drinks afterwards.”

 

Alfred downed the rest of his sixth beer, “Are you two dating?”

 

He didn't have to wonder why he cared about who Mattie was dating. He was sure he wouldn't normally care. It was just that friends didn't let friends date creeps. Or crazy commies.

 

Somehow, Mattie started to choke on the beer that he'd just taken a swig of. Alfred wiggled around in the circular booth to sit beside Mattie and pat his back.

 

Once the man had regained his bearings, Mattie said, “No. Ivan and I aren't dating. Can't I have friends and not immediately be accused of dating them?”

 

Alfred's brows knitted, “Why are you being so defensive?”

 

“I just don't see how it's your business who I date,” said Mattie, tensing.

 

Ouch. “I'm just worried about you.”

 

Alfred felt the muscles in Mattie's back relax under his hand and he rubbed a bit.

 

“I know. I'm sorry. And no, I am not interested in dating Russia.”

 

“Good. I would-” started Alfred before his phone rang.

 

He looked at the display and it read, 'Japan-Kiku'.

 

“Oh God. Kiku's calling me. I know we have the world meeting tomorrow in town here, but why is he calling me? He never calls me out of the blue.”

 

“Directions? Go ahead and take the call.”

 

Alfred thought he detected a weird hint of some kind of emotion in Mattie's voice but picked up the phone before it stopped ringing.

 

He was a bit jittery and he bounced in his seat. Alfred had thought that Kiku was cute for quite a while. He was interested in dating the man and had considered asking him out for some time.

 

Alfred wondered if Mattie would approve. He felt that his friend had just as much right to show approval on who he dated, just as Alfred had complained over the idea of Mattie being with Russia.

 

Man was he glad that Mattie wasn't with that freak Ivan.

 

He went for it and picked up the phone, “Hey buddy. S'up?”

 

#

 

“You know Mattie, I don't need Kiku. I gottchu,” said Alfred, draping himself all over Matthew as they sat in the back of the cab.

 

He knew that Alfred didn't mean that statement in the way that Matthew really wanted. The man was just drunk. Both men had gone to meet Kiku, Matthew was going as Alfred's wing-man just in case things went bad for some reason. Good thing that Matthew had been around, because Japan had started to ask Alfred dating advice.

 

They'd both started drinking heavily then and there. Well, Matthew had a head start when he was watching Alfred with Kiku.

 

The cab driver kept looking in the rear view mirror every now and then. Alfred was a loud drunk. Loud and very, very cuddly. Only with Matthew. The cuddling that was. He couldn't be quiet while drunk to save his life.

 

“I have you for company and my hand for other business,” giggled Alfred, “Get it? Other business? Ha ha.”

 

“Yes. I get it,” he replied, because even drunk, Alfred wouldn't give up until he got an answer.

 

Matthew breathed in the scent of Alfred's hair so close to his nose. Coconut and vanilla. It smelled different every time Alfred got drunk and then snuggled with Matthew. Last time he smelled like green apples. The time before that was mint-citrus. It wasn't as if Matthew was keeping track like a creepy stalker or something though.

 

Before he could berate his own weirdness, he heard Alfred unbuckle the seat belt, much to the cab driver's consternation. Then America plopped himself in Canada's lap and put his head on his shoulder.

 

“Yer soft'n'warm. You always smell like maple syrup, 'cept that one time you smelled like sage,” said Alfred.

 

Oh good. So Matthew wasn't the only one keeping track.

 

The driver pulled into Alfred's driveway and sighed in relief while stating the fare. Matthew reached for his wallet and missed his pocket.

 

Huh?

 

When he finally got out his wallet, he noticed that it was a bit blurry.

 

Oh yeah, he was drunk as well. At least his thoughts were always coherent while inebriated. He pulled out an amount of money that he figured would cover the fare and stumbled out. Yeah, he was one of those drunken men who stumbled everywhere.

 

Alfred had taken a video one time. It was really sad-looking.

 

Meanwhile, Alfred walked normally and circled Matthew, pawing all over his shoulders and whining about missing his lap.

 

They got inside and Matthew stumbled to a couch shaped blob, hoping his assessment of what kind of furniture he was seeing was correct. He flopped onto his back.

 

Yep. A couch. Cool leather touched the back of his shirt that had rode up and him hummed in contentment. His happiness was increased when Alfred sprawled his whole body over Matthew. Alfred never remembered doing so in the mornings, though he never seemed to care about waking up tangled with Matthew. America also never had a reason for why he did so other than, “Drunken me likes to snuggle?”

 

 

“Can't believe Kiku wanted dating advice,” started Alfred voice muffled by Matthew's neck, “How should I know what to do when on a date with Greece. Didn't even know he was interested in Heracles. Asks my advice. Like I get to go on dates a lot. I thought he liked me not stupid Greece.”

 

Matthew rubbed circles onto Alfred's back. Immediately, all of the stiff muscles in Alfred's back relaxed as if Matthew's hand was magic.

 

“It's not fair.”

 

Matthew was well aware of things not being fair. He knew this especially as Alfred's face snuggled into his sweater.

 

“I wish I could find somebody who could love me.”

 

“ _You have Alfred, he's right here. Right up against you and wanting only you.”_ thought Matthew.

 

“Somebody like you Mattie.”

 

“ _I'll just say it”_ , thought Matthew and opened his mouth to speak.

 

And squeaked.

 

He tried again.

 

And made a weird popping sound.

 

Alfred looked up, a smile on his face despite the sad words he'd just been saying, “Did you say something?”

 

Matthew shook his head. He could never say the words that he wanted. He screwed up every time.

 

“ _I love you”,_ he said internally.

 

Instead he just stroked Alfred's hair and let the man snuggle until they both fell into sleep. Sometimes, even though he could never say the words he really wanted, he got some really nice moments like this.

 

Matthew actually thought he could be happy, just with this, feeling Alfred's warmth all over his body. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Note: That joke about poutine really was made by a comedian and not me. I just have no idea who, so I worked it into the conversation between them. I take no credit.))


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains small bits of FrUK. Sorry if you hate that pairing, but it isn't much. The rest of the story will also have bits of them as well (but nothing that you can't ignore, I hope).
> 
> Also THANK YOU so much for the kudos and comments. I really appreciate it. <3

**Chapter Six**

 

Oh crap! His head felt as if somebody had driven a spike through it. Alfred groaned and nuzzled further into his warm pillow. His warm and breathing pillow.

 

Instead of opening his eyes, which he knew from hangover 101 was a bad idea so early in the morning, he let his fingers explore upwards. Soft and slightly curling hair, glasses and a Mattie-shaped face. He was cuddling with Mattie.

 

He remembered coming inside his house, sad about something. What had he been upset about?

 

Oh yeah! He'd been forced to move off of Mattie's lap in that cab.

 

Now Mattie was laying on the couch and Alfred atop him. Alfred's head lay on Mattie's chest which put his upper stomach against something hard at the other man's groin.

 

Was that...Mattie's morning wood?

 

Right then, with his eyes closed and his thoughts not excitedly racing to other subjects, Alfred could actually focus on the then and there. For instance, he noticed that Mattie's erection must be pretty big.

 

No. He shouldn't think that way about his friend. How perverted.

 

Alfred squirmed a bit in a stretch before he got up and he heard Mattie moan under his breath. The hardness near his stomach twitched.

 

Quickly sitting up, Alfred held his head. That had been a mistake, moving so fast.

 

“Never drinking that much again. I think I'm gonna die.”

 

A grumbled whisper came, “Join the club. Gosh I wish the sun would go away.”

 

“Aren't you used to hangovers? You have beers all the time.”

 

“I don't get hangovers from beers unless I drink tonnes of the stuff.”

 

Alfred cracked his lids just a little, “What'd we have last night then?”

 

“Sake. Kiku's idea”

 

“Oh. 'Kay.”

 

“Coffee.”

 

“Sake and coffee. Ew, I would have vetoed that idea.”

 

Mattie nudged Alfred with his toe and said, “No, coffee now. Hangover bad.”

 

Slowly but surely the two men trudged their way into the kitchen and brewed some dark ambrosia. Mattie's was full of the maple syrup that Alfred always made sure to keep around for when he was over.

 

Breakfast was small, just some toast. The two of them were capable of eating light sometimes, though Mattie bemoaned the lack of pancakes. The Canadian didn't want to get up and make any though, so Alfred told him to deal with it.

 

They didn't have a whole lot of time until the world meeting, so they each found a bathroom and showered quick. Alfred had a heck of a time finding his keys that had somehow slid under a cabinet. Stupid drunk Alfred. He hated his drunken self sometimes. He grumbled and bemoaned the fact that the pain medicine hadn't kicked in.

 

Of course then he realized that he'd been too drunk to drive last night and had taken a cab home. So they needed to taxi into town.

 

So as a result, the two men had to run into the conference room where the meeting was taking place. Alfred wasn't in the best mood and was feeling completely out of it.

 

“You suck Alfred, we're late and I have to run when I want to sleep, or die...or both”, said Mattie, panting.

 

“Deal with it”, said Alfred in a barely audible tone as he slammed open the double doors to the meeting room.

 

“Nice that you could join us America”, said Germany in his deep and accented voice.

 

The whole room was watching the two of them enter, most of them only recognizing Alfred. There were several quizzical glances Mattie's way.

 

Germany glared at them until they sat down. They had separate spots. America was saved the head of the table since he was the host for this meeting. Mattie had a seat next to...Russia.

 

Only the meeting coming to a quick start kept Alfred from snarling. That bastard was getting far too close to ALFRED'S brother-friend. His.

 

Ivan's hand sneaked over and touched Mattie's arm lightly with the tip of his fingers. The silver-haired Russian leaned over and whispered something to Mattie. As his mouth got closer and closer to Mattie, Ivan stared right at Alfred.

 

Alfred grit his teeth.

 

“What is your opinion America?” asked Germany.

 

“Huh?”

 

Germany swiped his hand through his gelled back hair, “About the newest policy that we are considering implementing?”

 

“That, well...” and he voiced his thoughts, hoping that the snippets of speech that he had heard was enough for him to wing it. All the while he glared at Russia pawing all over Canada.

 

Alfred may not have somebody to love him, but he had Mattie. There was no way in hell Alfred would let some filthy communist take his friend away from him.

 

#

 

Alfred's head still pounded all over and even behind his eyes. He hadn't had so much to drink in one night in a long time and was paying for it dearly. Worse was the commie who wouldn't keep his hands to himself.

 

Alfred couldn't even remember why he'd had so much to drink. All he could think of was Mattie. Mattie. Mattie. Mattie.

 

Downing his third cup of coffee since the meeting started, Alfred got up from his seat.

 

Germany had just announced a break and Alfred really had to go to the bathroom, so badly that he ran out of the room. On the way, he knocked into Russia.

 

Not bothering to apologize, though certain he heard some uttered 'kolkolkols' under the Russian's breath, Alfred dashed into the nearest bathroom.

 

He was still sighing in relief as he walked out of the lavatories and down the hallways to the huge break room. There he knew he'd find tonnes of different food tables set up in the middle of the room. Along the side were set up a number of private alcoves for people to retreat into for privacy behind curtains.

 

He wasn't feeling much better pain-wise, but his stomach was growling loudly, so he jogged up to the buffet. Alfred grabbed a huge plate and piled it high with all kinds of foods, many of which were fried. Sure there were healthier options too, but Alfred avoided those.

 

Holding his plate in one hand, and a can of cola in the other, he wandered about to find somebody to sit with.

 

Arthur was the first person he spotted across the room, walking with Francis into one alcove.

 

He was about to head there when he heard Mattie's voice, “I don't know Ivan. I didn't know you felt that way.”

 

Alfred got a bit closer to where he heard Mattie. He gripped harder onto the can of soda in his hand.

 

“Just think about it Matvey, da?”

 

“I don't really tend to enjoy one-night stands.”

 

What the...what? The can of soda started to fizz a bit under the pressure that Alfred was exerting.

 

“Then it can be more. I can get you to love me.”

 

“I can't. I'm in love with somebody else.”

 

Alfred's stomach dropped to his feet and he felt dizzy. Who did Mattie love? Who was it? He'd nuke the crap out of them.

 

No wait, he wanted Mattie to be happy, right? That's what he always thought to himself at least.

 

So why, way back in the decades just after the war of 1812, did Alfred get so upset when Mattie had married that Julie woman. Before he knew that the marriage was just a ruse. He'd thought that he was angry that Mattie hadn't told him about the wedding until after it had happened.

 

What if there had been more to it than that? More to how he felt? But what?

 

Alfred felt so clueless.

 

“He'll never give you what you need. I heard you telling Ukraine about it. I wasn't eavesdropping, I was just walking by and heard you two. I know that you love that fool America.”

 

Alfred found himself thinking, “ _Deny it Mattie. You don't love me do you? Not like that. Certainly you'd have told me by now, after well over two centuries.”_

 

Except no sounds came out from the curtain. Not a peep from his friend.

 

“Maybe in time you could come to love me too?” said Russia.

 

Alfred dropped his plate and the can of pop, liquid exploding out and spraying on the wall in a shower of amber.

 

The people behind the curtain he was listening in on slid it open. Mattie stood there, jaw slack and face pale. He stepped forward and tried to reach out to Alfred but his hand just fell when it was about halfway.

 

From behind Alfred, other nations were watching and whispering to each other but he didn't care. His attention was focused solely on Mattie.

 

“How much did you hear?” asked Mattie.

 

“Enough.”

 

Alfred wondered why his own voice sounded so cold. Why he did he feel so hurt?

 

“Um, so?” said Mattie, tone wavering.

 

“I don't know what to think.”

 

Making the several steps forth, Mattie lifted a hand again, trying to touch Alfred. The contact was dodged. Alfred's mind was already muddled. He was so confused and his headache was back in full force.

 

Instead he just shook his head.

 

“Don't touch me.”

 

He needed to focus on this own thoughts.

 

Mattie nodded and put his hands on his own chest, “Okay. Can we talk later at your place?”

 

Alfred shook his head again to clear his thoughts, “ _Did I possibly misinterpret over two centuries of friendship?”_

 

Before Alfred knew what he had done, Mattie said, “Okay. I'll go get my stuff now before you get back and I'll be out of your hair.”

 

“Huh?”

 

But Mattie had already shuffled away and was out of the door.

 

Russia glared at America as he passed and hissed, “You fool.”

 

#

 

Once he was down a few hallways, Matthew collapsed against a wall. Each breath he took felt like a struggle and his chest hurt. Tears made his eyesight hazy. Kumayama sat beside him, licking his cheek.

 

No, he needed to keep walking. He had to get his stuff and get home. Screw the rest of the meeting. Nobody ever listened to him anyway, so he wouldn't be missed if he skipped out this once.

 

Hearing footsteps down the hallway, Matthew looked over out of the corner of his eyes. He saw a familiar silver haired figure. He put up a hand to stop Ivan from coming closer.

 

“Please, I don't know how much more I can take,” said Matthew, sliding to the floor.

 

“Was going to offer a ride Matvey. Nothing more.”

 

Matthew sniffled. He really didn't want to let the tears come yet. He already probably seemed really weak to the other nations. He'd wait until he was away from the city, in his own car on the way home to cry.

 

“O-okay. Thank you Ivan.”

 

Russia extended a hand, which Matthew took and allowed himself to be helped up. Together they walked to the taller man's rental car and Matthew gave the Russian directions on how to get to Alfred's place.

 

“You'll make somebody really happy someday Ivan. You are being so kind to me right now.”

 

“Matvey was the first to really talk to me and, how you westerners say, 'hang out' with me. Others always just wish to talk politics and not be friends. Other than my sisters. I don't have many friends.”

 

Why was Russia being so open? Matthew didn't know but he sniffled and extended an olive branch.

 

“I don't have many friends either. I'm too used to being ignored. Ukraine is pretty much one of the only people I can really talk to aside from Alfred...and you now too.”

 

Matthew smiled.

 

“It's lonely.”

 

Matthew nodded, “Yeah...”

 

“I have a suggestion, if you'd be open to it.”

 

Putting his hands between his knees, Matthew watched the scenery rush by, “Um, what is it?”

 

“You can come stay with me in Russia for a little while? Just as friends?”

 

A few sniffles later, Matthew said, “That might be a good idea actually. I don't know that I want to be alone right now.”

 

“Da.”

 

#

 

“What the bloody hell was that about,” said Arthur, standing up next to Alfred, eyes narrowed and just as irritated looking as ever.

 

A janitor was cleaning up the mess of food and soda on the floor as Alfred stood and stared at the door that Mattie had gone through.

 

“What?” mumbled Alfred, far more quietly than usual.

 

“That's what I just asked you,” said Arthur again.

 

“Huh?” said Alfred, for what felt like the hundredth time.

 

He swiped his hand over his face once more. Even though he'd hardly gotten through his hang-over, Alfred wanted to drink again.

 

“Your brother just walked out of here after you two spoke, and Russia followed him. Why did Matthew seem so upset?” said Arthur, dragging Alfred into a different alcove for the appearance of privacy most likely.

 

Alfred knew just as well as the Brit that many other nations would be trying to listen in as well as they could.

 

France followed the two, since he and Arthur had been dating for a few years and would find out everything from Britain anyway.

 

“I think Mattie loves me.”

 

Alfred plopped down onto a leather covered bench and hung his head, arms resting on his splayed legs and his hands dangling between them. He took off his glasses and set them on the table. They were just getting in the way of him scrubbing his palms over his face.

 

Francis made that almost perverted sounding chuckle, “Hon, hon, hon. So what is the problem? He is quite the sexy boy.”

 

A cry of pain sounded when Arthur kicked Francis in the shin and scowled.

 

“What would make you say that?” said Arthur, voice authoritative but not unkind as he looked at Alfred.

 

“First I heard Mattie turn down Russia because he was already in love with somebody. Then I heard Russia say that he knew Mattie loved me. Mattie just stayed quiet. They said more stuff, and then Mattie came out when I dropped the plate and stuff and I was just so confused. I think Mattie said some things but I didn't really hear most of it. He left after that.”

 

Alfred pulled at his hair, “What do I do? Now that I know, I can think back and I realize that he may have loved me for a long time. Why didn't he say anything?”

 

He hung his head and closed his eyes tight, “What do I DO?”

 

Arthur's hand awkwardly rested on his shoulder and rubbed a bit, “Um, well...”

 

Francis piped in, “How do you feel about him?”

 

Alfred shrugged, “He's my best friend. I've never given any thought otherwise. Though nations call him my brother, he's more like a 'bro' to me or like a 'brother-friend'. It's what we called each other.”

 

“But you didn't answer my question.”

 

“Sure I did,” said Alfred.

 

“No, I want to know how you feel about him? Do you love him?” ask Francis, leaning his hip against the table as he stood.

 

“I don't know,” said Alfred.

 

He knew that he'd loved Susanna. He also knew that he felt the same way about Mattie that he ever did even before he'd ever met his wife. What did that mean?

 

Francis pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb, sighing dramatically as if he were dealing with somebody truly frustrating, “How often do you think about him each day? More than you do other people?”

 

Thinking for a moment, Alfred said, “Um, well I guess I usually think about Mattie whenever I don't know what to do about something. I'll try to guess what he'd do. I think about him at breakfast when he's not there because I won't have his great pancakes. Most places in my house have a memory of him that I'll often reminisce about. I'll also wonder frequently how he's doing.”

 

He paused before saying, “I think about him when I'm in bed and about to go to sleep. We used to fall asleep together a lot when we were younger, though we haven't slept in the same bed on purpose or sober since I married Susanna before the Revolutionary War.”

 

Arthur's body twitched, “You were married!?”

 

Alfred heard Francis dip down to say to Arthur, “Focus, mon cheri. I'm sure you can ask about it later.”

 

Thank goodness that Francis was there. Alfred really didn't want to talk about Suze right then. He needed to focus on Mattie and if it were up to Arthur, Alfred would be forced to spill the story right then and there.

 

“Alright, do you share thoughts with him that you wouldn't tell anybody else?” continued Francis.

 

“Yeah. I trust him more than I do myself sometimes.”

 

Francis fingered his chin, stroking the blond stubble, “When you get together, how often do you find yourself touching him?”

 

“No more than any other set of best friends touch each other. Of course I hug him whenever I see him. I touch his knees a lot, and give him back rubs. We cuddle up for movies, especially if they're scary. His lap is also super comfy, so I lay my head on it a lot. And I guess I sit in it often when I'm drunk. I slept on top of him last night while drunk.”

 

“What kinds of activities do you do together?” said Francis, ignoring Arthur who mumbled about 'this' not helping.

 

Alfred didn't know how these questions would help either, but was desperate for any kind of insight, “We eat together almost all the time and go out to restaurants. Mattie loves to watch hockey so we do that and go to games. I take him to movies and we go on walks, and we watch the stars. Sometimes we'll go for picnics, and then lay down in the grass and watch the clouds.”

 

“So you two are dating,” stated Francis, cocking his head to the side and placing two fingers over his lips as if to hide his growing smile.

 

Alfred finally looked up form his shoes, “What? No I didn't say that.”

 

Arthur sighed and said, “I hate to agree with the frog there, but it sounds like he's right. That's dating.”

 

“B-b-but friends do those kinds of things all the time,” protested Alfred.

 

“I'm sure that some do, but answer me this final question,” said Francis.

 

“Sure.”

 

“Tell me honestly, how would you feel about the idea of Matthew dating somebody?” said Francis.

 

“Easy. I want him to be happy. I'd approve as long as it wasn't that nut bar Russia.”

 

“So even if Matthew found a man, you'd be okay with it? Even though you'd know that it would mean some other man's lips on Matthew's. Holding him into the night and sleeping with Matthew,” said Francis.

 

“I don't-,” whispered Alfred.

 

“Touching Matthew’s body and mapping every inch,” continued Francis, ignoring Alfred.

 

“Stop it,” Alfred said more firmly.

 

“Some other man's cock sliding into his ass, pulsing and marking Matthew with his cum-,”

 

Alfred yelled this time, “Stop it!”

 

He was panting for breath and his hands shook. Alfred wanted to wrap his hands around the neck of some man who didn't even exist. He wanted to strangle the life from some theoretical boyfriend for daring to touch his Mattie.

 

“Admit that you love him,” said Francis, probing gently as if he knew how upset that he'd just made Alfred.

 

“I think I do. I love him.”

 

Arthur smiled a bit, “Then go find him and tell him that.”

 

Straightening his back and holding his head up high, Alfred felt as if he'd just had a weight removed from his shoulders.

 

He loved Mattie. He was in love with Canada.

 

And it felt really great.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

 

“Hey you, I'm hungry,” whined Kumadippa, pawing at Matthew from the floor of Russia's huge black car.

 

Matthew sat in the passenger seat and watched the city of Moscow pass by. It was really beautiful, and aside from landmarks that were distinctly Russian, reminded Matthew of his own country.

 

He'd been here before for world meetings of course, however he was usually in such a hurry to get places that he didn't take a good look around himself.

 

“You ate the last of your dried fish when we got off the plane. You can wait until we get to Russia's home with the groceries.”

 

“That seal meat you bought smells yummy now though.”

 

From behind the wheel, Russia chuckled.

 

“You can wait Kumalyrie,” said Matthew, turning to Ivan, “You have a really beautiful city.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“Yes. I'm just sad that I hadn't really let myself enjoy it before. I think that I'd like to sight-see while I stay here,” said Matthew, taking Kumalyrie's swatting paw and poking playfully at the black pads.

 

The polar bear grunted, removed his foot from his owner's grasp and curled back up at Matthew's feet. Always a sure way for Matthew to get Kumaterou to stop pestering for food.

 

“I can show you around if you want. There are some really nice places that I think you'd like.”

 

“And I can make you those pancakes that I've been promising for a while.”

 

As Matthew spoke, the two of them arrived at a large black iron gate. Ivan stopped the car in front of it and began to type in a code. Matthew turned his head to be polite and before long felt the car drift into the long curving driveway.

 

The house, or more like mansion, was gigantic. The roof had high gables and Gothic looking trimming along the edges. When Matthew had first been to Ivan's home, he'd sort of expected that the outside would be covered by dark bricks or stone. However the entire mansion's siding consisted of wood panels that had been stained a soft green colour.

 

The inside was immaculate and completely dust-free. Everything was expensive and elegant. Ivan took Matthew's coat and hung it up beside his own.

 

“I'm sorry again that you had to miss the rest of the world meeting,” said Matthew quietly, following Russia up the stairs towards the guest bedroom that he was going to be staying in.

 

“And miss all of the squabbles and petty arguments? All I missed was sitting and wishing I could crush all of their stupid faces,” said Russia, a wave of dark aura wafting off of him for a moment, making Canada shiver.

 

“Y-yeah. There's usually no point to them. Nothing useful ever gets accomplished.”

 

The door to the guest room was opened. It also never ceased to take Matthew by surprise even though he'd stayed there before. It put his own guest rooms to shame. But it was such a perfect place to stay for a while.

 

He didn't really want Ivan to go, but the trip had been long and the man excused himself to clean up and rest a bit. Matthew flopped his body down on the huge four poster bed and shoved his face in the fluffy pillows.

 

Without company as a distraction, tears finally broke free. He couldn't believe that Alfred had rejected him. His love was not returned.

 

Maybe not having Ivan here was for the best. Now Matthew could sob without restraint like the pathetic man that he was.

 

#

 

Alfred had driven like a madman to get back to his home. He really wanted to talk to Mattie. When he got in though, the place was empty. Every single room was without a certain Canadian.

 

Where had the man gone? Didn't he say that he'd be going back to Alfred's house and wait to talk to him?

 

That was when Alfred had remembered that he'd shaken his own head out of some kind of subconscious effort to clear it. Crap!

 

Alfred figured that he had to be the king of all idiots. The grandmaster of morons. First he doesn't see his own best friend's love for him, then he inadvertently rejects that same man. Remembering back, Alfred could clearly see the sadness etched on Mattie's features back in the dining hall earlier that day, only he didn't realize it at the time.

 

“ _No! I won't think this way. I'm a hero, and heroes can save the day. I'll just find Mattie and confess my love,”_ thought Alfred, posing in front of the mirror in his bedroom, hands on his hips.

 

He took out his cell phone and hit the first speed dial. Mattie had been second, but the man told Alfred that he was offended to be second place to pizza place. Alfred still didn't get it, but had acquiesced to the ~~demand~~ request that pizza come second.

 

<<You've reached the answering service for Matthew Williams, please leave your name, number and a short message after the beep...BEEP.>>

 

Alfred hung up the phone, knowing that Mattie would never answer the phone when he was on the road. Instead, he called back after another minute. That ought to have given the man enough time to pull over to the side of the road.

 

Still nothing. Just that robotic answering machine message with a brief glimpse of Mattie's own voice saying his name.

 

Maybe the guy's phone had died? Mattie rarely if ever let that happen, but it wasn't impossible. It could happen, right?

 

So he left a message on Mattie's phone.

 

“Hey dude,” started Alfred, cringing when he realized that people who were dating probably shouldn't call each other dude, “You aren't here, and I wanted to talk to you. Call me back?”

 

He hung up, and then called right back, “It's just me again. Wanted to tell you that it's important. Y'know? What I've got to say. So, call me back.”

 

Then Alfred went to start planning a really romantic date. Would Mattie even like romance though? Alfred had never seen the guy date anybody.

 

Just as he opened the closet to pick out some great clothes when he got another thought and called Mattie again, “That Russian went with you somewhere. He at least followed you from the room. I know you said that you two aren't dating and I trust you. I just don't trust Russia. Call me back to tell me that he hasn't killed you. Or to tell me that you aren't chained up in a dungeon under that bastard's house. Bye.”

 

He hung up and had slipped the edge of the phone into his pocket before he realized his mistake and called back, “Okay. I doubt that if you are chained up in a dungeon that you could call me back. In that case, this is Russia listening in to Mattie's stolen cell phone. So this message is for if that commie is listening: Ivan, if you have him, I'll kill you. If you are hurting him, I'll nuke you and your stupid country so hard that little bits of it will fly up into orbit around the Earth. I'll rip your balls off and feed them to you. You aren't the only one capable of torture, you-”

 

The message service cut him off.

 

Oh well. Russia probably got the point.

 

Right, back to planning clothes for a date.

 

The two of them went out to eat often, so that wouldn't be romantic. Especially because the both of them weren't really huge fans of super fancy foods. Alfred really hated those tiny portions and knew Mattie felt the same.

 

Deep in thought, he went to planning.

 

#

 

Hours and hour later, Alfred still had nothing. Not even a single decent idea of what to do.

 

It was three in the morning and he was draped over his living room couch on his stomach.

 

Mattie still hadn't called him back and Alfred had left numerous messages.

 

Maybe he should drive to Canada and go see Mattie himself. That could even be the start of a romantic time, right? Alfred could even bring Mattie some of his favourite coffee from 'Tims'. Tim Horton's. Maybe one of those maple filled donuts that he liked.

 

Perfect.

 

Just as he was packing a bag to go up North, he heard a knock on his door downstairs. Alfred went down the stairs four at a time, leaping and stumbling as he bunched up the runner rug in the hall heading to the entrance.

 

He flung the front door open and looked out, wide eyed with expectation, “Mattie? Oh, it's just you two.”

 

His shoulders slumped and he turned to walk away. Alfred shoved his hands in his pockets.

 

Arthur made a snooty little sniff, “What a welcome. We come all the way out here at this time of night for such an attitude?”

 

Alfred deflated against a counter in the kitchen as he poked the button to start a kettle for the tea that he knew Arthur would want. He watched Arthur and Francis come into the kitchen and sit at the dining room table.

 

“Mattie isn't calling me back. I've left so any messages tell him to get back to me. Why isn't he calling?” said Alfred, knowing that his voice was whiny, but not caring at all.

 

Francis crossed his legs and said, “We have some news. But I don't think you'll like it.”

 

That Frenchman's voice was almost sing-songy, as if he would actually enjoy telling Alfred whatever this was.

 

Arthur beat Francis to the punch, “My sources tell me that Ivan and Matthew got onto a private jet together headed for Russia.”

 

France gaped and swatted at his lover's arm, “I wanted to tell him.”

 

Arthur's grin was absolutely wicked, “I know.”

 

Francis crossed his arms and huffed, blowing a long strand of blond hair from his eyes.

 

Standing to full attention instantly, despite the lateness of the hour and how tired he was, Alfred yelled, “What? I knew it. That asshole kidnapped Mattie.”

 

“Had you not been telling us that Matthew is friends with Ivan?” said Arthur.

 

“Yeah-”

 

“Did you not, also, relate to us how Russia had essentially asked Matthew to date him?” continued Arthur, one bushy brow risen.

 

“I did. But Mattie told me before that he wasn't interested in dating that freak.”

 

“That's not my point boy. I am trying to get you to understand that Ivan very likely did not kidnap Canada. Besides, while Russia is a bit off kilter, he isn't stupid. Kidnapping a nation at a world meeting when he was last seen leaving with Canada isn't smart.”

 

“That and he knows that I'd kill him,” grumbled Alfred, put out that Mattie was with Russia.

 

Alfred got out a mug and put a bag of earl grey into it, followed by boiled water. He got out a carton of milk and a china bowl of sugar and set it in front of Arthur.

 

“Do you want anything Francis?” asked Alfred automatically, not really feeling anything that he was saying, or caring.

 

Really he was just thinking about what his next move should be. Alfred hoped that stupid Ivan wasn't going to somehow trick Mattie into dating him. What if Russia was just being nice as a show? He lures Mattie into his web and then traps him. Mattie was so kind and gentle, when he wasn't fighting a war that is. Alfred just knew that the Canadian was trying to see the best in Russia.

 

No. Alfred had to save him.

 

“I could use some wine-” started Francis, only to wince when Alfred's yell broke out through the room.

 

“I'm going to Russia and killing that bastard Ivan!” yelled Alfred running upstairs.

 

#

 

Arthur rolled his eyes and sipped his tea, “That boy won't ever learn will he?”

 

Francis got up and immediately homed in on where his finely tuned french senses told him that wine could probably be found, “Nope. Especially since I plan to drink the finest vintage that I find in here. It's what he gets for not being a better host. Hon, hon, hon.”

 

Very soon Alfred was seen storming back downstairs, wearing a military outfit that was made up of a camo pattern. He had guns strapped to his body and a sheathed bowie knife in his boot. There was a packed suitcase in his hands and a grim expression on his face.

 

“We should probably follow him,” said Arthur.

 

Francis looked longingly down at his newly opened bottle, “Fine. But I'm bringing this wine with me.”

 

The two men had to run to catch up with the pissed off American. When they had to jump to get into the backseat of the car, Arthur wasn't even sure that Alfred even noticed.

 

“What exactly do you plan on doing, you bloody moron?” asked Arthur, strapping himself in and holding on to the back of the passenger seat for dear life as the mustang peeled out of the driveway.

 

“Kill.”

 

“I got that impression. Do you really think that it is wise to start a war with Russia? That's what will inevitably happen if you go through with this,” said Arthur, face pale.

 

Oh hell, this vehicle was moving way too fast and it was too late at night to deal with such drama.

 

“He's probably violating Mattie was we speak.”

 

Francis was sitting, already strapped in and sipping from the bottle of wine. Some help that wanker was being.

 

“Didn't you hear anything that I'd told you previously? He is very likely not doing that,” said Arthur, somehow managing to keep in an unmanly shriek of distress as they barely swerved around a deer.

 

“Remember when Lithuania stayed with me for a while? We still spoke afterwards. He's told me some of the horrible things that Russia did to him. Seriously...Ivan is messed up. He's probably whipping Mattie, or starving him.”

 

Wiping his hand over his face, Arthur grumbled, “It's been less than twenty-four hours. How could Matthew have starved already?”

 

Alfred just kept going on about various scenarios that Canada was facing. He spoke as if they were certainly happening. When it came to war and battle, Alfred was very smart. In the matter of personal affairs?

 

The boy was an idiot. A total moron.

 

At least Arthur would go with Alfred to make sure that he didn't do anything too idiotic. After all, America going to war would end up affecting the whole world.

 

#

 

Matthew had, at some point during the afternoon, fallen asleep in his fits of crying. Once his eyes cracked open, it was really late at night, but he felt a bit better. Sometimes a good cry was all that was needed.

 

Coming to a new conclusion, Matthew decided that he just wouldn't think about his situation. He would enjoy his holiday for however long he decided to take it.

 

Kumawiki was curled up on the bed beside him, fast asleep and snoring ever so lightly. His black nose twitched every now and then. It was cute and Matthew resisted the urge to pet the animal.

 

Instead, he got out of bed and went to the bathroom.

 

He felt super gross and needed a shower. Tears had dried on his face and made a weird residue on his cheeks. He hadn't showered since that morning when he'd woken up with Alfred atop him, wiggling over his morning erection. Matthew only wished that he'd been conscious enough to enjoy the feeling.

 

Really, Ivan had the most wonderful home and the attached bathroom was huge. The shower was part of the tub, but that was okay. Matthew just drew the curtain around the tub and let the hot water steam up the makeshift stall.

 

The pounding of the water stream helped to relax the muscles in Matthew's body and he sighed with a bit of relief. Showering here was almost as nice as the showers in Alfred's place.

 

No. He wasn't going to think of America today. That would only stress him out.

 

Being clean gave Matthew a bit of a clear mind and he wrapped a towel around himself to go back out into his room. He opened his suitcase to get some clean pyjamas when he saw his cell-phone sitting atop the clothes.

 

Poking the 'on' button, Matthew realized the thing had died. Great.

 

He drew out his charger, found an outlet and connected his phone. Just to see if he had any messages, Matthew turned the device on.

 

“Sixty seven messages?” he said, scrolling through the list.

 

All from Alfred.

 

He began to listen to them. The first few made Matthew bite his lip in nervousness. Alfred said he had something important to talk to him about.

 

Was the man planning to make sure that Matthew understood without a doubt that Alfred rejected him?

 

He didn't know if he wanted to have to abandon all hope, even if there wasn't a whole lot left that Alfred wanted him.

 

Matthew laughed at the phone message that was dedicated to Russia, in case the man had stolen his phone. Alfred could be so unintentionally funny when he was angry. But why was Alfred being so jealous?

 

Likely Alfred was just concerned for a friend.

 

Matthew couldn't help but hear the growing dismay that filled the tone of Alfred's voice as he listened to his answering service. Most of the rest of the messages were just a directive for Matthew to call back. Some of them did mumble about dinners and fancy foods or about stupid roses.

 

Was the guy drunk?

 

Whatever. Matthew wasn't going to think about it. He was on vacation to forget.

 

A grumbling in his stomach made him look at his belly and grimace. It had been too long since he'd eaten last and Matthew was starving.

 

He put down his phone on the nearest table and got on some silver silk pjs. They'd been a birthday gift from Francis, who had tried to get Matthew to model them for him with his 'sexy body'. He'd declined and giggled when Arthur had hit Francis. Ten minutes later, from the pantry of his kitchen, Matthew had ignored the rough sounds of sex from a certain Brit and Frenchman.

 

Going slowly down the stairs, careful to not wake anybody, he saw a dim light emanating from the kitchen.

 

“Ivan?” whispered Matthew, seeing the Russian slumped at a counter, hand curled around a tumbler filled with clear liquid.

 

Russia looked up, “Sleep well?”

 

“Yes. I did, thank you. But what about you? This is sort of late to still be up isn't it? Unless you fell asleep and woke up again like I did,” said Matthew, trailing a finger over the marble counter top.

 

“Too deep in thought to sleep.”

 

Matthew bit his lower lip, “Care to share?”

 

He didn't expect anything, so the silence that met him wasn't a surprise. Ivan threw back his drink, which smelled like vodka, and grabbed a bottle from the fridge. Getting out another cup from the cupboard, Ivan poured a cup and slid it over to Matthew before filling his own again.

 

He put the bottle down between them, “Aside from the stupid American, have you ever loved?”

 

“Well,” began Matthew, running a finger around the rim of his glass, “I've only ever been IN love with Alfred. However I did love two women before. I was even married to one of them, though we never had that kind of relationship.”

 

Ivan raised a silver brow, “You never fucked them?”

 

Matthew cringed at the vulgar wording, “The one who was my wife, I married to save her from a life of prosecution. She was strong willed and not at all the type of woman her noble father would have liked. However she was a lesbian and had threatened to slit my throat if I tried to have sex with her. Julie's lover Evette, her former hand-maiden, had come with us.”

 

Ivan chuckled and drank some more of his alcohol.

 

“After knowing them for about ten years, with Julie's consent, Evette offered herself to me. I guess they felt sorry for me, being so lonely and having never had sex before.”

 

Ivan's eyes stayed on Matthew with avid interest, “Did you do it? Was she pretty?”

 

Matthew nodded, “She had gorgeous locks of flowing red hair and wonderfully curvy figure. However, I am, in general, gay. So I didn't take her up on the offer for nearly seven years, even despite that fact that I had been assured that both women were perfectly alright with me doing so. Julie even promised me that she wouldn't kill me.”

 

Matthew chugged back a few large gulps of vodka, coughing as it went down his throat, “The night that I finally slept with Evette was right after a visit from Alfred. I never told him that I did it and I only ever did it the once. I cried afterwards like a little girl. The only reason I was able to get hard was from thinking about Alfred. Evette spent most of the time comforting and hugging me.”

 

He pushed the cup away, “No more vodka for me. I've never said that out loud before.”

 

Ivan just stared, eyes creepily void of emotion, a tilt to his head. Matthew made a thick sounding swallow. He wondered if somehow he had said something wrong or brought back unpleasant memories for Ivan.

 

“Er, how about you? Have you ever loved?” he probed gently.

 

Russia took the bottle and made his way out of the room, “Maybe I can sleep after all.”

 

Matthew frowned and followed, regardless of whether or not it was a death sentence, “No. You should tell me.”

 

“And you shouldn't continue to talk to me right now.”

 

“Why not?” asked Matthew, though it was a stupid question.

 

There was a reason that so many other nations were scared of Russia.

 

“Because I'm a bad man. I've loved, and instead of showing my emotions with kindness, I expressed them with violence.”

 

“Who was it?” whispered Matthew.

 

After a long pause, Ivan turned around.

 

“Lithuania,” said Ivan, turning in the door frame and pinning Matthew down with an icy glare, “I tell you this because I trust that you won't tell anybody.”

 

“Of course not. But at the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, have you ever told Lithuania how you feel?”

 

Ivan shook his head.

 

“Well...I guess we are both pining for men we can't have, huh?”

 

“Da,” said Ivan simply, swigging more vodka and sounding incredibly sad.

 

“You know what makes it better, at least for a while?”

 

Ivan said nothing and looked curiously.

 

“Pancakes. You've never been to my place before, so you've never had them.”

 

“I've had types of pancakes before Matvey.”

 

“But not mine. I've wanted to make you some, since we became friends but we never got the chance. I think it's about time to share them with you,” said Matthew, bouncing on the balls of his feet at the prospect of giving the gift of freshly cooked pancakes, “Ukraine likes them too. I made some for her when she first became her own country.”

 

Ivan grunted and flopped onto a wooden chair by the counter.

 

Matthew swiftly brought his hands out in front of him, “I-I guess that Ukraine becoming independent is a sore spot for you. I'm sorry for bringing it up.”

 

“A bit, yes. But I have nothing against you. Why do you think I first started to get to know you? I wanted to make sure the nation who was friends with my sister wasn't going to hurt her. Especially since I quickly realized that you are America's ally.”

 

“I'd have never-”

 

Ivan scoffed, “Of course you wouldn't have hurt her. I left you alive didn't I? I even became friends with you, enough to invite you into my home and wait for America to come get you.”

 

With a wooden spoon stopped halfway into a mixing bowl, Matthew's jaw dropped a bit, “Huh?”

 

“The way I see it, if you were seen leaving with me, that capitalist pig will come get you in no time. I know how much he hates me. Can't say the feeling isn't mutual.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“He'll get jealous and worried for you. I know I felt that way when he had Lithuania.”

 

“Wha'...?”

 

Only instinct born from centuries of making pancakes made Matthew resume stirring the batter, “So you didn't invite me to hang out?”

 

Russia shrugged, “Part of it was to 'hang out'. I figured that we could have fun until America came to get you. Maybe he'll also break parts of my house, a window or something, and I'll have an excuse to hit his smug face.”

 

Matthew shivered at the innocently hopeful look on Ivan's face. He wondered how much of Russia's invitation was just to mess with Alfred. Russia could be like a cruel child sometimes, even if the man himself was actually not as bad as he made himself out to be.

 

“I don't think that Alfred coming here to 'save' me is a very good idea. It doesn't mean or prove anything aside from his hero complex kicking in.”

 

Matthew thought about it as he made the pancakes and the two men ate. Ivan didn't talk again until the food was served, but ate the pancakes with a shine in his eyes.

 

“Matvey? Bringing you here was a good idea. Maybe I shouldn't let you leave.”

 

“You like them that much huh?” he asked, a little nervous at how firmly Ivan had said that he shouldn't let Matthew leave.

 

“Da. America is a fool if he doesn't come to get you back from me.”

 

“You are right. He will come.”

 

Matthew just didn't know if he was looking forward to what was going to happen. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

 

Alfred hadn't really cared if anybody went with him on his mission to destroy Russia, but right then, he was glad that Francis had gone with him. It turns out that Alfred didn't know where Ivan lived. He figured that it was somewhere in Moscow, which is near where he had asked the pilot of Alfred's private jet to land.

 

However Francis knew where Ivan lived and how to get there. Alfred wasn't going to ask about how Francis knew that, since the man was Arthur's problem. Mattie was his main concern.

 

“You don't know the bloody roads you moron, drive slower,” screamed Arthur right into Alfred's ear.

 

“No,” said Alfred, gritting his teeth.

 

He looked into the rear-view mirror and saw Francis facing the window, shielding something from Alfred and Arthur's view. The car swerved as America reached back and flailed for whatever France had while trying to keep an eye on the road.

 

“Don't you dare warn that damned Russian ahead of time. I'll kill you next,” snapped Alfred.

 

Francis kept the device out of Alfred's reach, “Mon Dieu but you have Arthur's temper. You sound like twins when you get mad.”

 

Alfred didn't know whether to be insulted or relieved when Arthur gasped in outrage, “We are not.”

 

And Arthur swiped the phone, quicker than France could register, leaving him blinking into his empty hand.

 

Francis shook his head and sighed in defeat, “It's true. It is so very adorable. But I'm too tired right now to fight you. Besides, you will see that I was not texting Ivan.”

 

Arthur ignored his lover and swiped around on the phone, “Oh, he was just texting Spain. His records show that he hasn't spoken to Russia in weeks. And...hey what the hell do you think you were telling Spain huh? Talking about my-”

 

Alfred began to sing 'The Star Spangled Banner' in his loudest voice. He really didn't need to hear about Arthur's sex life. Ew, he didn't even want to think about England and sex in the same sentence.

 

He needed his focus on Mattie.

 

From the backseat he heard two voices directed at him, “Will you shut up!”

 

#

 

Ivan's house was surrounded by forest. Alfred had parked about a block away from where the house was. He brought Francis and Arthur with him. England was being silent, even if he didn't agree with sneaking up on Russia's home. Francis was complaining about being tired, even though he slept on the long flight over. France had wanted to just write out instructions on how to get to Ivan's and stay at the hotel room.

 

Alfred had threatened Francis by telling him that bad things would happen if the man didn't come with them. Arthur seconded that statement up by saying that he needed backup for when America started acting stupid. Alfred was too focused to argue.

 

It was the evening by the time they started making their trek through the woods, and moonlight streamed through the branches and lit their way. He walked slowly and silently. Even Alfred knew that there was a time and place for stealth and on his home turf, Russia would be too tough to face head on.

 

Arthur was behind him muttering, “When is the stupid going to start?”

 

Or something like that, Alfred wasn't paying full attention. He patted his coat and felt the weapons under it, glad that he was powerful enough to pull strings and get weapons into Russia on his person without questions. Through the trees he could spot the back of the house. There was a medium sized pond in about the middle of the backyard. The yard, however was surrounded by fence.

 

“Okay, here's the plan. You guys throw a grenade into that pool to distract Russia while I sneak through one of the front windows.” said Alfred, trying to pose heroically while still remaining hidden.

 

“There's the stupid. How do you plan to just get over that fence huh?” grumbled Arthur.

 

“I'll just jump and besides it's a good idea,” said Alfred, waving his hand in dismissal.

 

“No, it's idiotic. This isn't war and you're just going to piss Ivan off,” said Arthur and Alfred could see the man roll his eyes even in the dimness of the night.

 

“I don't care if the commie gets annoyed. Mattie is in there being tortured horrifically, and you care about what Russia thinks?”

 

Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand as it snapped out to slap him.

 

Arthur pulled his hand free and said, “Why won't you listen to me? That isn't happening.”

 

Deciding that he'd heard enough, Alfred took out the grenade, “It's not a super strong one anyway and that pond looks deep enough. It ought to just get a bunch of dirt and water all over the place.”

 

“And any rocks in the area will go flying into the house,” added Francis, holding up a finger, “I for one, agree with mon cheri this time. Your idea is stupid.”

 

The idea was great. He'd prove it.

 

Alfred took the pin from the grenade and tossed it, watching it plop into the water. Then he took off through the trees and to the front of the house, hopping over the fence as if it were naught but a small hurdle.

 

“Idiot!” cried Arthur as he took cover.

 

#

 

Matthew and Ivan, though tired, had a busy day. The two of them spent most of their time around Moscow, seeing the sights. Well, Ivan showing them to Matthew. He had a lot of fun. Russia had been more than happy to go into depth about the history of the places he had showed off.

 

Matthew did enjoy learning. Unlike certain nations that he grew up with. Ones that he wasn't thinking about.

 

During a tour of Red Square Matthew had inadvertently mentioned Alfred and his inability to stay still for long during Arthur's lessons. Ivan just grumbled and hid part of his face in his scarf, hands jammed in the pockets of his coat that was too thick for the spring weather.

 

It didn't take much to cheer Ivan up though, and the two of them got some yummy foods for dinner.

 

All in all, it was a good trip. Matthew flopped down on the bed in the guest room and started to rifle through one of his bags of purchases. He pulled out a new t-shirt that Ivan had decided to buy for him. He had a feeling that Russia had purchased it so that he could see Alfred's face as Matthew wore it.

 

It was a super soft cotton tee, red and with the symbol of a hammer and sickle on the breast. Matthew knew what it stood for. He had, after all, been friends with Alfred during the Cold War. Matthew knew that it was a Soviet symbol and stood for 'communism and all the evil in the world'. Those were Alfred's words of course.

 

Matthew thought it was kind of cute looking and it wasn't like wearing it made him a communist.

 

He slipped it on, since he'd run out of clean shirts and put on his last clean pair of boxers. Then he lay down under the soft blankets.

 

“ _So comfortable,”_ was his last thought before he heard the blast come from outside.

 

Debris from the blast hit the side of the house, sounds of splatters and crashes. His own window shattered as a rock came flying through it. Matthew put the blanket over his head just in time to shield his face from glass that littered the bed.

 

Just as Matthew peeked out from under the covers, Russia threw open the door, a deep scowl on his face, “Matvey? Are you alright?”

 

Matthew nodded and shook the glass on to the ground. Thankfully, his slippers were on the other side of the bed, so they didn't have glass on them, though he shook them off just in case.

 

“Yes, I'm fine? Um, what was that?”

 

Russia, already in boots, ran to the window and snarled, “A grenade. Want a guess as to who threw it?”

 

Matthew paused and blinked as he stood, “No...Alfred isn't...well, I doubt he would...oh maple...”

 

At that point a dark purple and menacing aura rose from Ivan, who stormed back towards the door. Matthew could hear the man's teeth grit from across the room. But when Ivan turned around, there was an innocent smile on his face, “Let the fun begin.”

 

#

 

Matthew had decided to follow Ivan. He hoped that he could at least try to stop America and Russia from murdering each other. Maybe Matthew should have just went back home after the world meeting. Then Alfred wouldn't have bothered trying to start world war three with Russia.

 

Over Canada.

 

Ivan's house seemed much larger in the dark, when they were walking slowly through it. Matthew eyed the pipe in Ivan's hand nervously.

 

Ivan kept stroking it's silver surface and making a scary noise from his throat that sounded like, “Kol, kol, kol, kol, kol.”

 

The two of them were downstairs and in Ivan's office. Russia walked to the desk and then looked out of the window that was behind it. That window was facing the front lawn, so it hadn't been shattered in the blast.

 

“Um, I can pay for the damages you know,” whispered Matthew, “So please don't be too mad. I live pretty modestly and have a good amount in savings.”

 

Ivan just grunted and moved around his room, looking around, “Hasn't been here. Where the hell is he? When I find him, I'm going to bash his head in.”

 

The sheer fury in Ivan's face was enough to make Matthew cry out, “No, please don't.”

 

“No. He trespassed and destroyed parts of my home. I was going to just have a bit of fun with him, but I had no idea that he'd go so far.”

 

“Fighting isn't the answer though,” said Matthew quietly, but when he saw Russia reach into his desk for a gun, he ran up to Ivan and yelled, “No. Stop.”

 

The door to the office burst open and there stood Alfred. All of his clothes were a dark camouflage pattern. His blond hair was dishevelled and looked as if he'd run his fingers through it repeatedly for hours. Dark circles lay under his eyes and his lips were twisted up in a furious snarl.

 

“Don't touch Mattie you bastard! Stop hurting him!” said Alfred before he charged.

 

Matthew tried to take the gun away from Russia too late for the sound of a shot rang out in the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger. I'm evil, I know. I hope everything seemed to make sense and doesn't come off as 'crackish' to anybody. Not that I don't like a good crack-fic. But I've tried to make this serious. Oh well, if I thought too much about this story, I'd never get it out. So yeah...


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

 

Later, Matthew would swear that he'd seen it all happen in slow motion. He was certain that he'd seen the bullet fly through the air. He was certain that he saw it sink deep into Alfred, blood spraying out the wound as a fine mist.

 

Eyes wide and heart feeling as if it had stopped, Matthew ran to Alfred who had collapsed to the ground, holding his chest.

 

Through the office door, right then came Arthur and Francis for some reason. Matthew didn't care to figure out why. He didn't care to hear anything, his whole world focused on the man he loved gasping for breath. Those sky blue eyes were cracked open and stared right at Matthew. A trail of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth as Alfred's lips tried to form words.

 

“Shh...don't talk. Save your energy Al. If you're coughing blood, your lung must have been hit somehow,” he whispered, pressing a hand firmly against the wound to help stem the blood.

 

Alfred weakly shook his head, “No. Probably...bit...my...tongue.”

 

Blink. Blink, blink, “I don't know, but you're still shot and losing blood.”

 

Arthur got on the other side of Alfred and said, “We need to pick him up right now and rush him to the ER.”

 

Russia stood behind them, putting his hand out to touch Matthew's shoulder, “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to shoot. My finger slipped on the trigger. I just wanted to scare him a bit.”

 

Matthew's narrowed his gaze and he snarled under his breath, “Save it for later. I want to get Alfred to a hospital right now.”

 

Matthew's eyes snapped up to meet Arthur's and he nodded. With one arm, he scooped Alfred up, his other hand still putting pressure on the wound. He didn't pay attention to the sputtering of the other three nations. Matthew didn't really show feats of strength often at all, so most others were stunned when he used it.

 

“Ivan knows how to get there fast. He'll drive, right?” said Matthew without looking back.

 

“I-” started Russia before Matthew turned his head just enough to glare.

 

“Ivan will drive, right?” said Matthew once more, his voice still very quiet but holding a dangerous edge.

 

He must had gotten his point across, because Russia stepped back and said, “Da.”

 

Alfred slumped into his arms, Matthew felt the man's face nuzzle into his neck just as it used to when they were young.

 

With a raspy voice, Alfred spoke into Matthew's ear. He could barely hear the words, even so close, but felt lips move against his skin.

 

Before Alfred went limp, Matthew could swear he heard the word, “Love.”

 

#

 

**Earlier**

 

Alfred had easily bypassed any stray servants that he'd seen once he broke into the house. They were all distracted by the blast and didn't even look in his direction.

 

Before Alfred went running into the room that he'd stalked Russia into, he'd been doing well in his mission. He'd seen a glimpse of Russia with Mattie and they hadn't been saying anything. Russia had that damned pipe in his hand. While Alfred knew that he was physically stronger than most, that didn't mean he had the skill and experience that older nations, like Russia, had. He had to be careful or he'd become a prisoner just like Mattie.

 

How could he save him then?

 

Alfred's plan was to wait outside of the office for Ivan to come out and bash him over the head. It was simple and effective.

 

Then he'd heard Mattie cry out for Russia to stop and to please not do something. He hadn't heard anything else, but Mattie had sounded really upset. His voice never reached that volume unless something was wrong. Alfred's vision went red.

 

So Alfred had run in without a second thought. And got shot in the chest. Which was probably why he was currently waking up from the darkness he'd fallen into after Mattie had picked him up at Arthur's command.

 

To his left he heard the low and steady sound of a beep. His arms held wires and there was a mask over his face. Whatever bed Alfred was laying on felt hard as a rock and the blankets over him were scratchy and uncomfortable.

 

Groaning, Alfred reached limply for the mask and tore it off. His mouth was so dry, and his tongue felt like sandpaper. Trying to open his eyes, he felt that he couldn't, they felt weighed down.

 

A low snuffle and then a snore sounded to his right and Alfred reached out his hand to feel what it was.

 

He encountered soft hair which curled gently around his fingers. He'd know it anywhere.

 

Mattie.

 

“Mmmm?” Mattie shifted and moved so that Alfred's hand fell away, “How did your mask fall away? Did you take it off? Are you awake?”

 

Fingers moved over Alfred's skin like feathers and he couldn't help but lean into the touch, “Yes. M'wake.”

 

Man his voice sounded raspy.

 

“Oh good. I knew you would wake up, you can't be felled that easily. It still wasn't easy to see you so injured. The bullet missed your heart, but just barely. If you were a human you would have bled to death before we got you to the hospital. A fragment of rib from the shot nicked your lung. You've been under for almost four days now.”

 

Alfred tried to chuckle but failed, the sound falling from his lips in a cough, “Is that all?”

 

Mattie growled. Growled!

 

“If you weren't so injured, I'd hit you myself. What were you thinking, going after Ivan like that? I've already given him a serious tongue lashing for shooting you even if it was by accident, but after what you did and sneaking into his country armed and ready for battle, he would have had rights, as a nation to do that to you on purpose. Why? Why did you do that? Why?”

 

“Worried about you,” Alfred was confused. Shouldn't Mattie be yelling at Ivan? Oh, did Mattie say that he had already yelled at Russia?

 

Mattie's head rested gently onto Alfred's arm and he sighed, “Idiot. You didn't need to be.”

 

Mattie kissed the skin under him and said, “But thank you. I-I should go tell Arthur and Francis that you are awake...and the nurses.”

 

“No, come here for a second.”

 

But Mattie was already gone. Alfred would have to wait for later to have the discussion that they so sorely needed.

 

He blinked several times, his eyes opening and becoming more able to focus. He'd need his glasses though, for the world to not be blurry.

 

Not five minutes had passed after Mattie had left the room, before Arthur had swept into the room. His face was a mixture of forced impassiveness and concern. Those bushy brows knitted together in concern and probably frustration. Alfred did, after all, recall Arthur mentioning that his plan hadn't been the best.

 

“You idiot,” said Arthur, looking anywhere but Alfred.

 

Francis hovered behind Arthur, unruffled as ever.

 

“Canada already covered that, calling me an idiot,” uttered Alfred in his dry voice that got more and more quiet as he spoke.

 

Mattie came in holding a plastic cup of water, ice tinkling together in it. Bringing it up to his face, Mattie held the straw in place for Alfred to drink, which he did gratefully.

 

“Yes, well I will as well because it's true. I told you not to do that. I told you that Matthew wasn't being held prisoner or being tortured. Throwing a grenade. Honestly.”

 

Mattie looked at Alfred and raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

 

“Still don't have proof that you haven't been tortured,” grumbled Alfred, feeling a bit more like himself after the drink, “And does anybody have my glasses?”

 

Pulling them from his jacket pocket, Arthur came over and slipped them onto Alfred's face.

 

Alfred could then, see clearly, Mattie's frustrated look and received a glare, “I'm not hurt. Ivan didn't lay a finger on me. I was simply visiting with a friend.”

 

“But-”

 

“If I thought Ivan was dangerous to me, I wouldn't put myself in a bad situation.”

 

Nurses swept in right then and started to check Alfred's vitals. A light flashed in his eye and he cringed. Despite the distractions, he tried to look around to Mattie in order to say, “I know that. I thought that he kidnapped you.”

 

“Oh,” said Mattie, collapsing into the chair beside Alfred's bed.

 

Francis said, “Not the smartest of thoughts. But we act rashly in situations involving those we care about, non?”

 

Alfred nodded, “Yeah. I guess I can admit that I maybe should have thought things through a bit more.”

 

“You think?” muttered Arthur under his breath.

 

“But Ivan still shot me!” said Alfred around a tongue depressor, remembering to use Russia's human name in front of the human nurses.

 

Mattie raised his index finger as if to make a point, “Ivan agrees not to start a fight over your attack, which counted as an act of war, if you agree to forget the shooting.”

 

“But-”

 

“This is the best solution. He is covering your hospital bills and you will pay for his house to be fixed,” continued Mattie.

 

“But-”

 

“Little Matthew is quite the diplomat, even in times where he is stressed. I saw in his eyes how he wanted to rip Ivan a new one,” said Francis, chuckling merrily.

 

Mattie gasped, “I would never! You know I don't like to get involved in-”

 

“It was a joke, mon petit Matthew,” said Francis.

 

“Unfunny jokes aside, Alfred, you should take the deal,” said Arthur who elbowed at Francis, “Things could have been a lot worse than they turned out.”

 

Alfred stuck his lip out in a pout and said, “Fine. I guess you're right and...Oh shit! Mattie, did that creep turn you into a communist?”

 

Mattie looked around, confused, “What would make you ask that?”

 

Leaning out, despite the nurse who was protesting that he stay still for his blood pressure to be taken, Alfred grabbed the bottom hem of Mattie's shirt and tugged it gently.

 

“That symbol of communism, the hammer and sickle,” said Alfred, flailing his hands a bit before collapsing back onto his bed from exhaustion, “Hey, you two, take that stupid shirt off of him. You like stripping people, dontcha Francis?”

 

Alfred pointed weakly and Mattie scowled, “It was a gift and I wore it because at the time it was the only clean thing that I had.”

 

At the moment, Mattie wore that horrible shirt of doom, and a pair of scrub pants, “What's with the scrub pants then?”

 

Scratching the back of his head, Mattie said, “I was only in my boxer shorts when you started your attack on Ivan's house. I was just going to sleep, before you even start going on about God only know what. The hospital lent the pants to me. Though that was a while ago now, I guess.”

 

Now that Alfred noticed, Mattie didn't look as if he'd left the room very much. He did smell sort of rank from not showering, but Alfred supposed that telling the person you wanted to date that they smelled was on the 'not-to-do list' of things you tell your partner. Or hopefully future partner.

 

“But it freaks me out,” said Alfred, drawing out the last word with a tired whine.

 

His eyes drooped and he yawned.

 

“Perhaps I can buy Matthew some stylish clothing then, oui?” said France, eyeballing Mattie's body, “Just so that he has something to wear while at the hospital with you, since they won't be letting you out for another day and I'm betting that Matthew will continue to avoid leaving your side.”

 

Arthur groaned as Francis grabbed his hand and led him to the door. With another long drawn out yawn, Alfred wondered what is was that Arthur and Francis liked about each other. The two men seemed to always be at each other's throats. One day, when he wasn't so sleepy, Alfred vowed to ask Arthur and not take 'sod off' as an answer.

 

France and England left the room and there was only Mattie.

 

“Why don't you close your eyes and rest, okay?” said Mattie.

 

“You really didn't leave me?”

 

“Of course not. I'll always be here,” said Mattie, blushing and looking down at his feet.

 

Alfred reached out and brushed his fingers down Mattie's arm before falling back asleep.

 

#

 

The next time Alfred woke up, Mattie was dressed in new clothes. He wore tight jeans and a stylish button up white shirt. The outfit really wasn't his style. He was reading a book, something that was in french, so Alfred had no idea what it said. One guess who gave him that?

 

“What time is it?” said Alfred.

 

“Close to seven in the morning,” said Mattie, putting down his book, “The nurses were already around. They checked the areas you'd had surgeries on and they're almost entirely healed. Of course, these nurses know about nations, but they were still incredibly surprised.”

 

“Too bad I was asleep for that.”

 

“Always sleeping like the dead,” said Mattie, shaking his head and smiling.

 

“So my wounds are healed? Does that mean I can have a shower? All the wires are off of me,” said Alfred, rubbing at a spot on his arm where some sticky tape residue remained.

 

“Yep. Your room has one in the bathroom. I got them to bring in some towels and soaps.”

 

“Great,” said Alfred, grinning. He felt really gross and getting clean would be awesome.

 

Swinging his legs off of the side of the bed, he shimmied off the bed and stood.

 

Only to wobble a few steps and hold onto a nearby chair for dear life.

 

“Maybe you should lay down for a while longer Al?” said Mattie, rushing to hold onto Alfred's arm to support him.

 

Alfred shook his head, “No. I feel disgusting now and I want a shower.”

 

Then he got an idea, and Alfred said, “You could join me. I bet you would like a shower too.”

 

The deep red flush that came over Mattie's face was adorable. His violet eyes averted instantly and his hand shook on Alfred's arm.

 

“I'm not so sure that's a good idea. Don't you remember what happened at the world meeting? How I feel about you? It's not just feelings of love...I...”

 

“Find me attractive?” finished Alfred, walking forward and thereby forcing Mattie to follow if he didn't want Alfred to fall.

 

Mattie's voice was a breathy, “Yeah.”

 

“Well, you never gave me time at the meeting to gain my bearings. I was confused. If you'd waited at my house, you would have been around for me to discover that I feel the same way.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yep. I just never realized it. You'd always been there and my feelings have never changed. I thought that must have meant that I saw you only as a friend. It never occurred to me that it could have been more. You were the one to be perceptive enough to see your feelings for what they truly were.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Mattie opened the bathroom door. The hospital shower was made up of only small blue tiles, with a sturdy grey metal bench attached to the wall. A heavy white plastic sliding door sanctioned off the shower area and was already opened.

 

Mattie took the towels off of the bench and put them on the lip of the sink. Then he stood and wrung his hands, looking down and biting his bottom lip.

 

Alfred realized that Mattie had kept his feelings hidden for over two hundred years simply due to his shyness. The man wasn't likely to make the first move in any sort of sexual way.

 

So he leaned against the wall, placed his hand maiden style on his forehead and sighed dramatically, “Oh what shall I do? I am simply too weak to remove my clothes. Can somebody please help me?”

 

Chuckling but still blushing furiously, Mattie said, “You're incorrigible.”

 

“And you're starting to sound like Arthur. Who uses words like incorrigible?”

 

“Who uses words like shall in this day and age?”

 

“Touche,” said Alfred and then gestured to his clothes.

 

“Come on Mattie,” he whined, “Strip meeeeeee.”

 

Mattie, while shy as all get-out, could be bold when he set his mind to something. Alfred could see the gears turn in his friend's mind before the Canadian went behind him. Slowly the man undid the ties that held together the hospital gown that Alfred wore, all three of them. Then Mattie went back in front and slid the garment off from the shoulders, dragging his fingers along skin as he went.

 

Alfred shivered. The touch was electric.

 

Next, after tossing the gown to the floor, Mattie trailed his hands down to Alfred's hips. With his index finger, the man teased along the top of the pants, dipping in every now and then.

 

“I can't believe I'm touching you like this,” said Mattie.

 

“I can't believe that you haven't taken my pants off yet,” said Alfred, trying to tease but his voice trembling with anticipation.

 

#

 

So Matthew did as he was asked, one hand on each side of Alfred's hips, gently bringing the pants down. When he was done, Matthew was on his knees. Alfred's cock was half-erect, but still impressive. It was uncut, as you couldn't exactly circumcise a nation since the foreskin would just grow back. The rosy tip just barely peeked out, a pearly drop of pre-cum dripping from the slit.

 

Feeling bold, he flicked out his tongue to catch the drop. It tasted bitter and yet so magnificently Alfred. The dick twitched and hardened more.

 

Then Matthew realized the Alfred was probably feeling dizzy and so stood up and said, “Let's go into the shower.”

 

He took off his own clothes and helped his friend to the stall. Once he had Alfred sitting down on the bench, hearing the man hiss about the metal seat being cold on his bare ass, Matthew turned on the shower. He adjusted the temperature to be almost hot, not as high as he'd normally like it though. He was glad that there was no shot of cold as the water heated up.

 

“There,” he said, turning and choking on his words when he laid eyes on the sight before him.

 

Alfred's legs were splayed and his hand worked lazy strokes up and down his shaft, “You are wearing the necklace I gave you. After all this time.”

 

“Y-yeah.”

 

It was mesmerizing and his own dick began to react. Well, even more than it had been before.

 

“Mine had been around my neck before I got shot,” said Alfred, gasping on the words as he must have hit a sensitive part on himself, “Do you have it?”

 

Matthew blinked a few times, too dazed from the sight before him and the nodded. He reached out of the shower stall and dug around in his pants pocket. He drew out the pendant and then went to Alfred and put it around his neck.

 

“Suck me?” asked Alfred, pupils dilated and breath panting out even more when Matthew put the jewellery on him.

 

Matthew nodded and got to his knees as if he were born to the position. It felt so right to him, to be in such a way in front of Alfred.

 

He brought his tongue over the length, tracing a barely visible vein to the base. Alfred's balls had only a light spattering of downy blond hair, perfect to lick. They were such a wonderful weight as he sucked one testicle into his mouth, laving it thoroughly before letting it out and giving the other side the same treatment. Above him Alfred groaned and brought a hand to rest on Matthew's shoulder.

 

Matthew let the balls slip out and smiled, nuzzling into the hand. The feeling of finally being like this with Alfred was heady and felt like a dream. He'd wake up in the guestroom in Ivan's house alone.

 

Then he frowned. This wasn't actually a dream was it? What were the chances that Alfred would, after all this time, understand Matthew's feelings and feel the same. Why would Matthew be on his knees in a Russian hospital in front of the love of his life?

 

After what happened at the world meeting?

 

He looked up and met Alfred's gazed eyes, “I'm dreaming this all up, aren't I? The cold look you gave me the last time we saw each other? This isn't really happening is it?”

 

Matthew slumped down and rested his head in his hands and sighed.

 

Slowly, Alfred lowered himself down and grabbed Matthew's chin, “This is real, Mattie. You've always been the one who's there for me. I was talking with Francis and Arthur, trying to sort out my feelings and I realized that you and I were already practically dating as it was.”

 

He didn't know about that, and he shrugged, “I don't know.”

 

“We did everything that couples do, just not the sex. I'm closer to you than anybody and then I realized something.”

 

“What's that?”

 

“That I really, really did not want anybody else to touch you.” said Alfred, stroking his hair, “Not here.”

 

Alfred ran his hand down Matthew's neck, “Not here.”

 

That hand went down Matthew's chest, stroking the lightly defined muscles, “Not here.”

 

Alfred then wrapped a hand around Matthew's erection, “Not here, no, certainly not.”

 

And as Alfred stroked languorously, he brought his lips down on Matthew's. The meeting of mouths was instantly full of passion and need. A clashing of tongues, a clinking of teeth. Sloppy, desperate and oh so wonderful. They thrust tongues back and forth, battling for dominance, swirling around each other until Matthew submit. He let Alfred freely explore his mouth and put both of his hands on Matthew's head.

 

Slowly Matthew felt himself being lowered to the now warm tile floor. Water pooled around them both and still fell from the shower head above. Their hips touched and their dicks slid together.

 

Alfred drew away from the kiss, lips still brushing against Matthew's and said, “And I really, really didn't like the idea of anybody else kissing you. I want to be the only one for you, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away. I'm so damned sorry that I didn't realize my feelings sooner.”

 

Each sentence Alfred spoke was punctuated by a soft kiss to somewhere on Matthew's face. His eyebrows, forehead, cheeks.

 

With Alfred on top, they began to thrust against one another gently, cocks so slippery as they met over and over. The friction built and skin slapped as they writhed, urgently seeking release. Hands moved over bodies, mapping each inch, finding sensitive spots, kissing and nipping skin.

 

Matthew's cock twitched a few times before he cried out and let go, the area between their bodies flooding with creamy white semen. Alfred bucked his hips once, twice, before finding his own climax.

 

The two men lay there, under the stream of water, panting and gingerly caressing. Lips met in a feather light contact and Alfred whispered, “I wanted to say it in a more romantic way, but Mattie, I love you.”

 

Matthew flung his arms around Alfred and hugged the man above him tightly. He nuzzled his face into Alfred's neck and ignored the fact that a few tears slid down his cheeks. He smiled ear to ear.

 

Alfred hummed after a while and then said, “Hate to be a buzz kill but how about we get clean and go lay down in bed before I fall asleep.”

 

Matthew's eyes popped open and he nodded, “Of course!”

 

They made quick work of showering, though Matthew felt like he could have repeated the shampooing. Once they were dried and dressed, they went back into the room.

 

What they saw made Alfred chuckle and Matthew turn beet red.

 

Francis sat on the edge of Alfred's bed, legs crossed with a leer on his face chuckling in that distinctly and stereotypically french way of his, “Hon, hon, hon, hon, hon.”

 

Arthur, however, sat on a chair, gripping the armrests tightly. There was a scowl on his reddened face and he refused to make eye contact with the younger men who exited the bathroom.

 

“If we had known that you two would be in the midst of faire l'amour we would have come later, non?” said Francis, waggling his eyebrows in such a perverted way that Matthew flushed even more, if it were possible.

 

At that point, he was certain that his face was going to catch on fire and burn clear off. What a wonderful visual.

 

“W-we came to pick you two up and drive you to the hotel. I-I've taken then liberty of fetching your things from Ivan's home. Oh bloody hell! Couldn't you two horny wankers have waited to screw until you got to the hotel. Honestly!” said Arthur, who at some point during his rant, got up and began to pace through the room.

 

Even though England continued to yell and complain, Francis held a bag out to Alfred, who just stood there with a smirk on his face.

Canada couldn't meet anybody's eyes. Damn America for not caring that two of the men who'd raised them had heard them in the throes of orgasm.

 

“I brought you clothing mon ami.”

 

“Cool,” said Alfred, who promptly removed his towel and started to put on the boxers that he'd been given.

 

Arthur paled, fell silent and then threw his hands up in the air and stomped out of the room, only opening the door a crack on his way out for privacy's sake. He did shut the door quietly however. Francis leaned back on the bed and seemed to enjoy the view.

 

Matthew jogged to block his vision, “Why don't you go see Arthur?”

 

“But I'm happy here,” said Francis, watching Alfred still somehow working on putting on his boxers.

 

Geez, how long it it take to dress yourself?

 

Matthew narrowed his eyes and put his hands on France's face, squishing his cheeks and bit before saying quietly, “I think you should go see Arthur.”

 

Finally the older nation must have realized that Matthew was serious because Francis nodded, though he kept trying to look around Matthew, “We will be waiting in the lobby.”

 

Once Francis left, Matthew just laughed at how ridiculous the situation was, “Have you no shame?”

 

“Huh?” said Alfred.

 

“You were just undressing in front Francis, who, while I like him and hold no ill will towards him, is a pervert.”

 

Alfred slid his pants up and zipped them up, “Well, I didn't quite think of that. I just kept thinking of the look that undressing would put on Arthur's face. It was funny wasn't it? He went all pale and stuff. Ha ha.”

 

Also chuckling, Alfred put on his shirt and bomber jacket.

 

“Yeah, okay fine. It was pretty funny. But...um...”

 

Walking up to him and putting a hand on each of Matthew's shoulders, Alfred cocked his head and said, “But what? I don't want you to think I'm ignoring you this time Mattie. Or for you to get the wrong idea or something.”

 

Matthew sucked in a deep breath and let out, words all stringing together, “I don't want others to see you naked. I want to have you all to myself.”

 

He clenched his eyes shut tightly and waited. Then he felt a kiss on the tip of his nose. His glasses were slipped off and each of his eyelids were grazed by Alfred's lips. Then his forehead, each cheek and finally his lips. The kiss wasn't deepened, just a tender caressing of mouths.

 

Alfred drew back, resting his forehead against Matthew's, “Of course you will be the only one to be with me. I want you, and only you.”

 

“Thank you. That really means a lot to me. I love you. So very, very much.”

 

“I love you too Mattie.”

 

They snuggled while standing for a while longer before an angry knock rapped upon the door, “Will you two hurry the hell up. I don't have all day.”

 

“Better get going before the Brit blows a gasket,” said Alfred.

 

Matthew kissed Alfred's cheek once more and they left the hospital room.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

 

Matthew and Alfred didn't spend too much time in the hotel room. They mostly slept, curled up against one another. Every now and then they'd wake up in order to eat or watch some television, but they were so exhausted from everything that had happened, that they didn't go far from the bed.

 

They also didn't do much else when it came to sex. They gave each other a leisurely hand-job before falling asleep one time, but that was about it.

 

The next morning they all shuffled off to fly back to their homes, Arthur had booked all of the flights for everybody. Matthew, while missing his home, also wanted to be with Alfred so he went to America.

 

And Alfred was quite insistent on going back to his house in any case. Matthew knew better than to try to argue with his brother-friend. Or would that be lover now? Maybe both?

 

So, after a long flight and a drive home through a traffic jam, they were finally home.

 

The weather was warm for spring, and they decided to have lunch outside. Alfred was grilling a huge mound of steaks, Matthew hoped that he wouldn't have to eat too many of them. Kumayearo sat vigilantly by Alfred's feet, staring up with big wide black eyes for some meat. Sometimes the little animal could seem more like a dog than a bear.

 

Matthew lay on the cool tiles that surrounded Alfred's useless swimming pool. It wasn't usable because the man kept a whale in it. Eyeballing the white sea creature, Matthew reached out for it. It licked his hand, leaving it covered in a layer of slime and blowing water up into the air in excitement. Thankfully the stream of liquid landed away from Matthew.

 

“Aw, he's always liked you. I mean, I do think he likes Lithuania more, but still,” said Alfred, gesturing with a spatula.

 

Matthew put a hand over his face and feigned a sob.

 

He hid his smile as Alfred ran over to him with a gasp, “No. I don't feel that way. You're that only one for me. The whale has his priorities all out of whack. He should like you more.”

 

As soon as Matthew had lured Alfred in close, while the man was waving his arms and sputtering excuses, Matthew leaned in and kissed the tip of Alfred's nose, “You're cute.”

 

Alfred's face reddened and then he pounced, pinning Matthew to the tiles while rubbing his whole body against the prone nation.

 

“I want you,” said Alfred.

 

Matthew considered the idea of letting Alfred take him right there. However a few things stopped his body from reacting.

 

One: The whale right by their heads, staring.

 

Two: Tony, the grey alien, sitting at the patio furniture who was saying, “Fucking.”

 

Very appropriate for once.

 

Three: Kumadextrous saying, “Meat burning.”

 

Since steaks being burnt could possibly make Alfred cry, Matthew gave the man a light nudge in the direction of the barbeque. Alfred leapt up and ran to flip the food.

 

Alfred gave Kuma one portion, Matthew three steaks and himself five. Geez.

 

“There is no way that I'll be able to eat this much food,” said Matthew.

 

“I've seen you eat more than that in pancakes.”

 

“That's different.”

 

“How?”

 

“It just is. Pancakes don't count. They are so light and fluffy.”

 

“Excuses,” said Alfred, already working on his second half of his first steak.

 

Alfred suddenly looked down under the table and then picked another piece of meat up off of the tray. He started to bring it down before Matthew grabbed his wrist.

 

“Kumahero doesn't need anymore,” he said, “I'll give him some of the seal I keep in your freezer.”

 

Alfred put the food back and then said, “Okay. But I put the seal in the freezer downstairs. Needed more room for burgers in the one upstairs.”

 

Matthew rolled his eyes and then said, “Fine. I'll be right back.”

 

#

 

Alfred wondered what was taking Mattie so long. The man had been gone for like fifteen minutes. It didn't take that long to find his freezer did it? Though his basement was kind of huge and Mattie hadn't really had many reasons to go down there. Usually the gluttonous little polar bear would finish any seal that Matthew brought down with him from Canada. Alfred never needed to put it in the big freezer in the basement.

 

So Alfred got up to leave, grabbing his final piece of steak with a glare at both Kumajirou and Tony who he was sure would steal his food, and then went downstairs.

 

Just as he popped the very last bite of food into his mouth, he saw it.

 

Laying out in the open, with the dust cover yanked off of it and thrown on the ground, was an old bed made of wrought iron. Covers were tucked in around the mattress.

 

Mattie stood, staring down at it.

 

“Mattie...I...”

 

“This is the bed you shared with Susanna?”

 

Alfred swallowed hard and nodded, “Yeah.”

 

For once he had no idea what to say. He was frozen in place, staring at the bed he loathed and loved at the same time.

 

“It looks like it's been kept clean and in shape.”

 

“I have a servant come down here every couple of months to keep it up and make sure it doesn't rust or get dirty,” said Alfred, trembling as he stood still.

 

“Are you okay?” said Mattie, suddenly in front of Alfred, cupping his cheek.

 

“Yeah, I- I have an idea. If you're open to it?” said Alfred, his mind made up, an idea firm in his head.

 

Mattie nodded furiously, hair bouncing, “Anything to make you feel better.”

 

“Help me make new memories on this bed?” said Alfred, slipping an arm around Mattie's waist.

 

Before sucking his lower lip into his mouth, Mattie made what Alfred assumed was supposed to be a gasp, but ended up a squeak. Alfred put his finger on Mattie's lips and eased the lower one back out before leaning forward to lick it's shiny surface.

 

“Go lay down. I'll be back in a second.”

 

Alfred ran to the freezer and grabbed a whole bunch of seal for Kumajirou. He jogged upstairs, plopped it down for Kuma and then told Tony to stay out of the basement. He went to his bedroom and grabbed the lube, no condoms required since nations didn't get STDs. Looking into his drawer of toys, he thought that the rest of his kinky stuff could wait for another day.

 

He wanted to make love to Mattie. Play could come later.

 

He locked the door to the basement behind him because he was pretty sure that Mattie had trained the darn bear of his to open doors by moving chairs and standing on them, plus Tony was nosey.

 

When he got back into the room that had the bed in it, his mouth went dry.

 

Mattie was laid out like a feast. Every ounce of clothing was off of his body. He lay on his back, legs splayed slightly, his dick semi-hard and resting in a nest of dark blond curls. Somewhere, Mattie had found a candle and it's flame cast a flickering glow over all of that pale skin.

 

One hand laid on his chest and with the other Mattie beckoned Alfred forward. Alfred ran, undoing his jeans at the same time, nearly tripping and swearing as he pulled them down along with his boxers and socks. His shirt came soon after, leaving just his necklace.

 

Yet once he stood at the edge of the bed, he faltered. This would be different than just rubbing off on each other, not that the time in the shower hadn't been frickin' awesome. It was just that sex with Mattie, in his old bed was a big thing. This would be, like, connecting on a whole different level.

 

Alfred gulped.

 

Matthew smiled gently and took Alfred's hand in his and kissed the tip of each finger before tugging him closer.

 

“What if I'm bad at this?” said Alfred, quiet for what even he would admit, may have been one of the first times in his life.

 

“Even if you've never been with a man before, I can tell you what to do. I have some experience,” said Mattie, blushing.

 

Alfred looked up and was about to yell things about dirty commies before Mattie sternly said, “Not Ivan for crying out loud.”

 

“Sorry, I'm just-”

 

“Jealous. Yeah. I know, and I'm not really that irritated. Come here,” said Mattie, patting the spot beside him.

 

“I've been with guys before too. Just...never to make love. I've only ever fucked men before. Raw, hard and dirty. I haven't even made love since-”

 

Mattie kissed Alfred's lips and whispered, “I assumed.”

 

“How?” said Alfred, genuinely perplexed.

 

“If you had loved somebody after your wife, you'd have told me within moments of figuring it out.”

 

“Oh. That's true.”

 

“Now, kiss me.”

 

And he did. Alfred pressed their lips together, teasing along the seam of Mattie's mouth until he was allowed entrance. A wet tangling and dance of tongues made a moan come from him. One of his hands reached out to brush Mattie's nipple, just barely. Mattie's chest raised towards Alfred's questing fingers.

 

Rolling the nipple in between his thumb and index finger, Alfred tugged it. Mattie gasped, breaking the kiss. Alfred did it again on the other side. A tongue traced up the vein in Alfred's neck until Mattie arrived at an earlobe, which was promptly sucked into a hot mouth.

 

Both of Alfred's hands fell down on either side of Mattie and he grabbed a fist full of blankets, “Oh god Mattie. Oh shit, keep sucking right there.”

 

He could feel a smile curve on Mattie's lips before a ruthless assault was made on his ear. Mattie traced the rim of Alfred's ear before moving to the other side.

 

Alfred's ground his hips down against Mattie and his bottom lip quivered.

 

“I found your weak spot pretty fast,” said Mattie in a husky and alluring voice, ending with a giggle.

 

Vision glazing over, Alfred swiftly took both of Mattie's wrists in one hand and pinned them over his head. He then sucked marks up on Mattie's neck, all over between licks and nips. Mattie made a moan that was more like a deep exhale of air than a real noise.

 

Alfred's other hand trailed down, caressing over Mattie's hip-bone before encircling his dick. He only stroked gently since he hadn't yet applied lube, and said, “So sexy. How did I not see it before?”

 

“Maybe you had, but you repressed any urges you felt,” said Mattie between groans.

 

“When did you get so smart?”

 

“Enough talking,” said Mattie.

 

Mattie's hands weren't free, but his mouth was unoccupied. He moved fast, sucking Alfred's lower lip into his mouth, biting it softly before moving into a deep kiss.

 

Alfred let go of Mattie's dick and his wrists and grabbed the lubricant, coating his fingers generously. He then broke the kiss and lowered his body so that he was up to close to Mattie's rosy tipped cock.

 

He looked up at Mattie once more, just to make sure that the man was okay with what was happening. Upon seeing Mattie's smile and nod, Alfred sucked the cock into his mouth. One hand had to grip the base and stroke, because Alfred hadn't had many dicks in his mouth. It was usually the other way around. So he still had a pretty strong gag-reflex.

 

However Mattie didn't seem to care. His hips kept rising and falling and Mattie’s eyes were shut tight.

 

Alfred brought his lubed hand down, massaging the perineum for a moment before circling Mattie's hole. A single finger probed, once, twice and when the muscle relaxed, Alfred eased it in.

 

Soon one finger became two, and then three. Mattie's cock was leaking into Alfred's mouth, hardly bitter at all and actually a bit sweet.

 

Letting the cock in his mouth slip free, Alfred was about to comment that Mattie's pre-cum tasted like maple syrup when he saw it. Mattie was writhing on the bed, blankets twisted under him. His mouth was parted slightly and he panted, his eyelids open to slits.

 

“Do it,” said Mattie, voice so firm and husky that a shiver ran down Alfred's spine.

 

Had Mattie ever been so demanding?

 

Smoothing more lube over his already aching erection and bringing Mattie's legs up, Alfred eased them over his shoulders. Then he grabbed himself and lined up to Mattie's hole.

 

“Are you relaxed?” asked Alfred, worried about hurting his friend, his lover.

 

“Yes. Please. I need it.”

 

Alfred pushed past the first ring of muscles, feeling the heat envelop him, scorching him and he dove down to capture Mattie's lips in a kiss.

 

#

 

Matthew felt the first burn of penetration and savoured it. He was relaxed, though it always hurt a little bit at first. But it was so good. It was Alfred. America.

 

Inch by inch, he was filled while they kissed until he felt the tickling brush of curly hairs against his skin. Alfred put his forehead against Matthew's and they just lay there.

 

Matthew reached around to feel where he and Alfred were connected. The touch caused them both to tremble with delight. He withdrew his hand and put them both on Alfred's head, looking into those sky blue eyes.

 

“You can move now.”

 

And he did. Alfred went slowly at first. A gentle rolling of hips, grazing of lips and building of heat, slow kindling of fire in their souls. It built to a frenzy of limbs, kisses, licks and movements. A release of centuries of longing and a giving in to passion.

 

Matthew's legs wrapped around Alfred's sweat slicked lower back. Thoughts vanished and awareness of surroundings were gone. All he knew was Alfred. All he saw, smelled or tasted was Alfred.

 

And all it took was for Alfred to snake a hand between their bodies and stroke Matthew twice before he tumbled into his climax. He heard a yell reverberate through the room and realized it was himself.

 

Alfred followed after a few shallow thrusts, flooding Matthew with hot release.

 

The two men collapsed, Alfred's softening penis slipping out. Matthew whimpered at the loss. They fell beside each other, Alfred wrapping Matthew tight in his arms, brushing ardent kisses over his shoulders and neck.

 

“I love you. That was wonderful. You're amazing. I've never felt anything like that before. Did I already say that I love you? 'Cause if I didn't already, I do. I love you,” said Alfred, voice rising into an excited pitch.

 

Matthew hushed the man, who was starting to vibrate in his enthusiasm. He kissed him and them hugged him, “I love you too.”

 

Easing the blankets out from under them, Matthew covered their bodies as their sweat chilled in the cool basement air. Together they snuggled. After all this time, Canada and America were finally together, in love.

 

And Matthew couldn't be happier.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it for this part of the story. Stay tuned as I am writing a fluffy sequel to this. I am also writing a story about Russia and Lithuania that will fit into this 'universe' and planning a FrUk. Once I have more written, I will start to post them. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading.


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